Three Wrights and an Edgeworth
by The Sequestered Princess
Summary: Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth thought that dealing with a Wright in the courtroom was bad... And then he discovers that his new partner is Phoenix Wright's little sister - and she's a twin.
1. Chapter 1

I'll never forget the day I re-met Miles Edgeworth. It wasn't particularly special - I woke up, got ready for work, bought a muffin at the gas station while filling up my Beetle, and barely made it to my desk by 8. Pretty much the same thing I'd been doing every morning since I started working there the week before.

Then the chief of detectives comes over to my desk and asks if I "wanted to prove that I was more than just an overpaid chick in gothy clothes." So, the day had only just started, and my boss was already trying to make me do something dumb so he could write me up. I mean, hello! I'm a detective - how the hell can anyone living on a detective's salary be considered overpaid? And my clothes aren't gothy, thank you very much. If you must label me, I prefer the term "Ecclectic".

Thankfully, I kept these comments to myself that morning... Anyway, the chief handed me a file folder and sent me over to the head prosecutor's office. So, after waiting fourty-five minutes for our _esteemed_ colleagues at the police department to take care of a fender-bender IN THE PARKING LOT, I finally made my way up to meet the prosecutor who had requested a 'temporary assistant'.

"What kind of prosecutor requests a detective's assistance on a temporary basis, anyway?" I muttered as I walked into the lobby, reading the file.

"It's rude to speak under your breath, Detective." A cultured voice observed. I looked up from my file. "The reason I requested a detective on a temporary basis is simple. My partner, Detective Dick Gum-"

"Gumshoe? That explains it, then." I said, handing the folder to the prosecutor, who was dressed in a maroon suit and... A frilly white cravat. "Wow." I said, montioning to the cravat. "Haven't seen one of those since last Holloween... Guy down the hall dressed as an undead David Bowie. Name's Wright, by the way. Detective Natalie Wright." The prosecutor turned white as a sheet - If it hadn't been for the smoky gray hair and lack of pizzazz, he coulda been the vampiric singer.

"Wright? As in... Phoenix Wright?" He sputtered, something I don't think he did often. As if he had heard my little observation, he shook his head quickly and straighted. "You wouldn't happen to be-"

"Related to him? Yeah, he's my older brother. Judging by your reaction, you must be Miles." I said, punctuating my statement by snapping my gum so that it echoed in the silent lobby like a shot. He cringed and pointed to a trash can.

"Dispose of that immediately." He said, shuddering slightly. I grinned and complied. "I would prefer it immensely if you would call me Prosecutor Edgeworth, or Mr. Edgeworth. Not Miles. Never Edg-"

"Never Edgey or Worthy. Nick told me. So, where are we headed? Chief told me you were in charge, so... Charge." He rubbed his temples. Yes, Mr.-Prosecutor-Edgeworth-not-Miles-never-Edgy-or-Worthy, you are in for a _very_ long day.


	2. Chapter 2

We drove to the crime scene in my car. The look on Edgeworth's face when he saw what I drove was priceless. He expression when I turned the car on was even better. I have this.. habit... of listening to my music really loud. I don't know if he objected to the volume, the song, or the situation in general, but object he did. So, sadly, I ended up having to drive in _complete silence. _When we got to the crime scene, he practically launched himself out the door towards the yellow tape. I laughed quietly as I got out of the Beetle - I had never realized that it could go over 90 mph, but it could now, I guess.

"I thought you've ridden in a car when Gumshoe was driving it, Mr. Edgeworth. Why are you freaking out about my driving?"

"His driving is why he's not here at the moment, Detective!" He hissed through gritted teeth. Which was, I suppose, a legitimately true statement, as Gumshoe's driving was, at least partially, to blame for his absence. Of course, no one had really expected him to take Detective Johnson's dare of driving up to Eagle Ridge blindfolded, but Johnson caught up with him after work and offered him fifty bucks to do it, and the rest is, well, history. I smirked.

"And it's not your speed that had me 'freaking out' as you put it - It was your lack of using your turn signals, and your sudden sharp turns that did it!"

"Oh. Well, The Bug's tail lights don't always work, so I kinda... Don't remember to use the turn signals...? And the turns only feel sharp because it's a small car with really bad suspension." I looked at the scene and saw a CSI wearing a pair of slim kahki pants and a red and black striped polo shirt. She was kneeling over the victim's body and taking pictures. _Could this day get any weirder?_ I lifted the tape to let Mr. Grumpy Prosecutor through, but he just stood there, glaring at me. I finally gave up and walked over to the CSI, who by now had noticed us and was waving.

"So..." I motioned to the body at my feet. "Who's this, why's he dead, how'd he die, when'd it happen, where's the suspect, what's the motive?"

The CSI stood up and brushed bits of gravel off of her pants and replied, "Don't know, probably exsanguination, looks like his throat's been slit, about 6 hours ago, that's your job, and ditto." She smiled and motioned to Edgeworth.

"Introduce me, Nate." She and I walked over to the tape securing the scene and ducked under it. She stretched again, shaking her wispy red hair out of its ponytail. Yawning, she stripped off her latex gloves and offered a hand to Edgeworth.

"Sorry - it's been a long shift. I'm Maralie, or Mara. I just transferred to LA from a county on the east coast that had... I think it was over 80 crimes committed a month." I nodded. "I was way over my head there. Most of the crimes had to do with drug trafficking, and... " She paused, and looked at Miles, who still hadn't taken her hand. She lowered it, mumbling, "Your new boss is quite the charmer, Nate."

"Mara, he's not my _new_ boss, he's my _temporary_ boss. And he hates it when people talk under their breath. Says it's impolite." I told her, imitating his cute British accent. (Hey, so what if he was my temporary-stick-in-the-mud-boss... British accents are hot.)

"And you'd better brace yourself - this is the one and only Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth." I said grandly. She took off her sunglasses and looked into his eyes, and he realized who he had just been introduced to -

My twin sister, Maralie Wright, CSI.


	3. Chapter 3

"I think we killed him, Nate." Mara said, looking him over. I had to admit - he didn't appear to be breathing, but that's not really the best way to judge if someone's dead or not. As it turned out, he wasn't dead, though the shock _had_ nearly done him in.

"...How... Why didn't Wright tell-"

"It really doesn't matter if Nick told you about us or not. You know now, so..."

My interruption was interrupted by a rather abnoxiously screechy voice.

"DUUUUDDE!" A lanky man in an orange jacket and a pair of brown pants - that looked to be about 2 inches too short - was running at my boss of an hour (give or take). As a graduate of a police academy, I was trained to protect innocent people from blood-thirsty psychos, and, seeing as how we were at a crime scene, I figured we could have a murderer on our hands.

"Just.. relax, sir. Get behind the tape." I figured that handling this situation with professionalism would get him to listen to me. No such luck, as Edgeworth decided to panic. You know how I said his reaction to my driving was priceless? I was wrong. If we had been in a different situation, his reaction to the screeching man could be considered EPIC. He literally tried to go in two directions at once. Mara lifted the crime scene tape, and I shoved him under it.

"You're safe now, Sir." Mara said, gesturing to the tape. "It's against the law to-"

And then the asshole ran right through the tape.

Mara blanched, Edgeworth froze, and I tased the sucker. They both stared, first at the man who had been reduced to a twitching mass of stupidity on the ground, then at the crime scene tape (which was no longer securing the scene) back to the helpless retard who had just compromised our crime scene, and finally at me. Edgeworth seemed to be reavaluating me, while Mara just looked pissed off.

"Do you know this idiot?" She asked Edgeworth, jabbing the jerking man with her foot. He groaned, which caught her a bit off gaurd - She's used to dead bodies laying at her feet, not live ones... Though, from the look on the Prosecutor's face, he may not stay that way for very long.

He sighed and straightened his cravat. "Unfortunately, I do. This is-"

"Larry? LARRRY! What the he-" And, suddenly, my day went from weird, to weirder, to becoming a fricken family reunion of weirdness.

You remember watching Looney Toons as a kid? Think back to the Coyote and Roadrunner ones, and picture, if you can, Wiley Coyote's expression as one of his many ACME purchases is about to backfire on him. Now, transfer that expression onto the usually condescending face of my boss, and you'll have a pretty decent mental image of his reaction to the news that there were not one, not two, but three members of the Wright family in the immediate vicinity.


	4. Chapter 4

"Nick?" We said. In stereo sound, because twins are cool that way.

"Maralie...and Natalie?" We nodded, again in stereo. If this crime solving gig doesn't work, we could always become each other's understudy on a sitcom or something. It worked for the Olsen girls, didn't it? Except they were, you know... 3 years old at the time. Plus, they eventually became royally screwed up... "Wow. I didn't realize that both of you were transferring in. I mean, Mom had said something about Maralie coming but-"

"When'd you talk to Mum?" Interesting. Nick and Mum had a little falling out after his boss, Mia Fey, had been murdered. To be perfectly honest, Mara and I were kinda surprised she'd agreed to let us transfer to LA - she had, at one point, declared that it was a 'bottomless hellhole of sin and other icky stuff' (she's really deep, our mother).

"Huhn? Umm.. Two weeks ago...? She called to tell me 'your little sister is coming, and if you have any room in your apartment, you should offer it to-"

"You have your own apartment? Wow. For some reason, I pictured you living in your office." Phoenix was never the most enterprising person in the world.

"Umm... Heh, well, I kinda _DO_ live-"

"So, Nick... You know this guy?" Mara asked, changing the subject. Nick nodded reluctantly. She kicked the guy - Larry? - again. He had stopped twitching now - unfortunately, his constant jerking had been replaced with an annoying nasally whine.

"Shut your mouth, Larry. Do you realize what you just did? You just entered - and contaminated - a crime scene. That means you're now considered a suspect. Do you understand what I'm saying, Larry? Yes? I'm glad. It looks like you've given Wright yet another opportunity to prove you innocent." Edgeworth was kneeling next to Nick's friend, in a somewhat sinister manner that made him sound like a really pissed off James Bond. I'll admit, I nearly swooned, but then I remembered that he was my boss. Of course, Mara choked, causing all of us to look at her sharply. She blushed and flapped her hand at the ripped tape.

"I've never had a lunatic run through the barrier and into to my crime scene before." She sighed. "I'm not really sure what to do now. I mean..." She pointed to the gravel that Larry had disturbed when he was convulsing. "That could be interpreted as evidence of a struggle, and he could have shed - or picked up - hair or some other minutiae that we can't use anymore, not to mention all the drool that he's secreted during his little epileptic impression." She looked at me now, frowning. I raised my hands as a sign of innocence.

"He could be the killer. You don't know if-"

"He's not the killer. He's just... Larry. He gets caught up in these situations, but he's never guilty." Nick said with a frown.

Larry nodded enthusiastically, until Mara silenced him with a sneaker to the face.

"..."

"Yeah, just... Don't move. Don't talk, Don't thin-"

"He never thinks, Maralie. He just-"

"He's never guilty, and he never thinks...? Does he obey orders, 'cuz then he'd be great on a SWAT team."

"Natalie, have you lost your mind? Why would he be great on a SWAT team? HE DOESN'T THIN-"

"None of them do, Nick. They just wave their guns around and charge into buildings."

"...Actually, he would make a pretty decent Steel Samurai." Nick, Edgeworth and I turn to Mara, dumbfounded.

"...Are you on crack?"

"HE JUST VIOLATED A CRIME SCENE!"

"You did NOT just suggest Larry Butz could be the Steel Samurai." Which I considered to be a pretty interesting comment on Edgeworth's part, especially given the fact that he sounded rather scandolized at the thought of it.

Mara just shrugged. "I dunno. He sure has a heck of a lot of energy, and his voice is definitly loud enough to be heard through a mask..."

After that... Oddly disturbing little observation on my sister's part, the crime scene became really quiet. And it stayed that way until the police officers arrived to take Larry Butz down to the detention centre.

"I'd better head over there, myself." Nick said after the officers had left. "Larry's my client...Again... And I better be there to... Defend him..." He sighed, and turned to Mara. "Did you-"

"No. My partner dropped me off. I'm supposed to radio her when I'm finished here. Which, thanks to your friend, I may never be." She took her phone out and walked towards a tree, talking to dispatch.

"Then I guess I better head for the bus stop." He turned to go, but stopped as Edgeworth cleared his throat.

"Why don't you ask your sister for a ride? I'm sure she'd be glad to give you one. I can just call a cab-"

"Edgeworth, I trust Natalie with my life. That being said, I will never again get into any car that she is the driver of."

Who ever said one was the loneliest number was wrong - I got to listen to my music all the way back to Mr. Edgeworth's office.


	5. Chapter 5

Umm, I don't own Larry Butz, Phoenix Wright, or Miles Edgeworth, as they is belonging to Capcom.

That being said, Natalie and Maralie ARE mine, and there is only one person besides me who has permission to use 'em, and her name is XStormyX. She is made of win.

Okay, 'nuff of dat, let's get on with the chapter!

* * *

Two weeks after Larry Butz was arrested (on suspicion of murder, as well as being dumb enough to run through a crime scene barrier) the charges against him were dropped. Well, the murder charge was dropped, anyway. The county is still trying to decide what the heck to do with the freak of nature that my brother considers as a friend.

"I swear to you, Nick - Larry may very well be the missing link. It makes perfect sense - he looks like an average example of a human male, but he has no recognizable cognitive skills whatsoever!"

"Maralie, you're just pissed off because they gave him the choice of community service or jail time."

"He. Ran. Through. My. CRIME SCENE!"

It went on and on. Mara wouldn't talk to Nick for another week, which was a somewhat troubling event - I can keep a grudge like a bulldog can keep a grip - you're going to have to break my jaw before I let go. (Metaphorically, of course.) But Mara's more of a...Moose, or something. Moose don't tend to pick things up with their mouths like bulldogs do.

Oh yeah - speaking of animals, I discovered my boss owns a dog. How did I make that discovery? I'm a detective, duh. That, and I finally got to go into his office.

You see, Mr. Edgeworth usually meets me in the lobby of the prosecutor's building. "If I wanted to put up with the inevitable barrage of personal questions you would ask me, I would let you into my office. However, as I can barely stand all of the talking you do on a regular basis, I assure you that you will never see the inside it." I don't talk too much. I just... Can't stand silence.

Anyway, last week Tuesday, I walked into the lobby, same as usual - only to discover that my boss wasn't there.

"Hey... Mrs... Secretary. Is Mr. Edgeworth here?" No, I hadn't forgotten her name - she just never really seemed important enough to acknowledge until now.

She may have felt the same way about me, because she sorta shrugged and said "Ehhn."

I wasn't sure if that was an affirmative or a negatory, so I decided to ask again.

"Is Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth in the building?" My question received another shiningly brilliant, yet noncommittal, answer. The people here are ever so _helpful_...

"I'm going to go up to his office to wait for him, then... Keep up the good work, I guess." _Don't hurt yourself trying to do your secretarial duties... Like answering questions..._

I have to say one thing - I think my boss may be a tiny bit on the 'queer' side... Unless it's normal for a full grown man to have Steel Samurai dolls in his office. Of course, that wasn't the only indicator of the fact that my boss might be gay.

He has a framed jacket hanging on his wall. My first thought was _"What...the...Hell...?" _followed closely by the realization that he could lend that thing to the guy down the hall for his Halloween costume this year, if he wasn't going to be using it himself. Maybe that's why he framed it - to keep it pristine...?

I took a glance at his bookshelf - none of the titles gave me much insight into his life - except that he was dedicated to his profession, and he has really nice handwriting. In fact, the handwriting went with the frilly Victorian jacket enshrined on the wall - Kinda strange for a guy, but really beautiful at the same time. He took copious amounts of notes, and they were all organized in binders with trial ID and dates. Very impressive - but also revealing.

"He's a neat freak, with possible OCD tendencies..." I murmured, leafing through one of the binders.

I moved on to the desk - Holy Crap. It was so clean and polished that I could see my reflection. _Gumshoe probably did this..._ Not sure why I suddenly thought that, but that's not really anything new. _Desk calendar... Address book... Picture of him with a dog... Letters to be sent... Wait - picture of him with a DOG! _

It wasn't a big picture - just a snapshot in a frame. In the photo, Edgeworth was holding a short, black leather leash in one hand, and a trophy in the other. On a table in front of him sat a smallish sized dog with triangular ears, deep brown eyes, and a curled tail. The dog's fur was the colour of creamy butterscotch candy, and he seemed to smiling - in a doggy way. I smiled at the picture - _it's good to know he's not totally alone _-

And then I saw the manila envelope with my name on it.


	6. Chapter 6

"Why does Edgeworth have an envelope with my name on it?" I mused. I picked it up - it wasn't super heavy, but it definitely had stuff in it. Just a I had lifted the flap to open it, I heard the doorknob rattle. Talk about a panic attack! I looked around, searching for a place to hide - under the desk seemed to be the best bet. I dove under it just as Edgeworth walked into his office.

"I understand your apprehensions, Wright-" Was he talking to my brother on the phone? I nearly leaned out to check, but then I remembered I was hiding. _Curiousity killed the Nat_, I thought wryly.

"That is why I decided to inform you of my intentions... No, of course not... Wright, you need to calm down. I'm not planning to use any of the information against her." From my rather one-sided view of the conversation, it sounded like Edgeworth had blackmail material on someone that Nick was friends with. A _girl_ that Nick was friends with. The only girl that I knew of that considered my brother a friend was Mia's little sister named Maya... He had mentioned that she had a little cousin, but she's like, 8 years old... I doubt Edgeworth could find anything (or any reason) to blackmail a little girl with. Edgeworth was walking towards the desk now - a fact that had me literally shaking.

I'd seen tapes of some of his trials - he's terrifying when he wants to be. Of course, over the past few weeks, he's just been moody - but I'd much prefer moody to murderous.

My mind started racing to find a decent excuse to use if he did find me. I briefly entertained the idea of telling that there was an earthquake drill, but then I remembered he had a pathological fear of them, so it may look like I was making fun of him...

"Wright, you are, as usual, blowing things far too out of proportion." Yeah, If I didn't know who Edgeworth was talking to before, I knew it now. It takes a heck of a lot to make my brother angry or nervous, but making him jump to conclusions is a simple endeavor. Mara and I used to do it when the electricity went out. We would pretend that we had been playing on his computer and tell him that it sparked before the electricity went out... Dumb stuff like that.

I wonder if Edgeworth used to do that to him when they were kids? Tease Phoenix, I mean. I can see Larry doing it... (heck, Larry STILL does it)

But I can't really get my mind around the idea of Miles Edgeworth as a kid. I can't really imagine him as one. I've seen his pictures in memory books, but if it weren't for the fact that Mum had written captions under all the photos, I would never recognize the cute little boy with messy hair and a crooked smile as this perfectly coiffed..._man_.

This perfectly coiffed man who was now standing right in front of me. _Please don't sit down... Don't look under your desk... _I heard the sound of paper being picked up (the envelope, I realized) and then he walked out of my line of sight. _He's leaving! No, he's not - he's coming back around the desk... He must have gone to the closet..? _I heard the sound of a briefcase being unlocked, and papers being shuffled, straightened, and slid into an envelope (my envelope - well, the one with my name on it.). Then, he closed the briefcase with a loud, annoyed sigh. (He has many sighs. Bored sigh...Tired sigh... Annoyed sigh... impatient sigh...I could write a very long thesis on the different sighs of Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth. I kid you not.)

"Wright - stop talking. All I said was that I found some...Rather disturbing information in her file... Well, of course I have a right to do a background check on her - she's a detective, after all. And, as if being a detective wasn't enough, she's my partner now. What I don't understand is why it's as scattered as it is. I've only been able to find about a fourth of it..."

Wait - Miles Edgeworth had looked at my file? I felt like I was about to throw up. Nick was right - Edgeworth had absolutely no right to look at my file. It was scattered for a reason... The only thought in my mind at the moment was simple.

How much had Edgeworth learned about my past?


	7. Chapter 7

I don't own Edgeworth or Maralie's Boyfriend. Edgey is Capcom's, and our mystery caller is one of XStormyX's pretty boys. If you can guess which one he is, you get a prize! (sorry Stormy, but you don't count- you already know which one he is, after all.) But Natalie and Maralie are mine, and Stormy's the only one with permission to mess with them.

Also, a shout-out to Notorious, who took time out of his busy life to read _AND_ review this humble author's little dribbling bit of fiction. Thanks for being a good example, sir! All the rest of you better follow his lead if you want to be able to read more of this!

And with that, let's begin chapters 7 and 8!

* * *

As soon as Edgeworth left his office, I went home. I didn't even tell the receptionist (it wasn't like she'd pass on the message, anyway...) I threw my bag onto the kitchen table, where it landed with just the right amount of velocity to spew all of its contents onto the floor. **"Dammit!" **I was too angry to deal with any of this... _What I wouldn't do for a cigarette - or something stronger..._

"Mmmhmm, Natalie's home... Yeah, I know, she's kinda loud sometimes... You what...?...Stop - seriously? Ah! No way - Next Friday...? Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes!"

Great. Mara was on the phone with her rockstar boyfriend. _Won't be able to hear myself think for the rest of the day... And well into the night... _I walked over to the fridge - and discovered that we were out of soda. As well as pretty much anything else that I could drown myself in. I put the water on for tea. I could hear Mara laughing for her room - _Why does she have to giggle like a friggin bimbo whenever she's talking to him?_ I wondered irritably. I picked up the kitchen receiver.

"Mara! I need the phone!" I yelled into the mouth piece before hanging it up loudly. I grabbed a carton of left-over stir-fry and my cup of tea and headed for the den. "2 minutes, Mar!" I called down the hall and was oddly pleased to hear my sister say goodbye to her boyfriend.

"Well, you heard the tyrant, Oh Phantom lover mine. I honestly can't wait for next Friday...Of course I'll be watching the concert!... You will not!... Okay, but only one song. When are you coming here to LA?... Well, tell him that it's a really great place to shoot music videos... There are lots of beaches not far from here... Stop it! You're making me blush..."

"MARA! I NEED THE DAMN PHONE!"

"Ugh. I love you... Talk to you next week Friday after the show?... 'Kay. Bye..." She hung up the phone in her room. I sat down on the couch, counting down the seconds until she came out and railed on me. _Three...two...o-_

"Natalie Rhiannon Wright, what the HELL is wrong with you? You know I don't get to talk to him very often - he's usually too busy during his tours to call, and when he's not touring, he's working with the DEA!" She was really getting into it now, which was something I had perversely hoped for.

"Yeah, he's busy. You guys only get to communicate once every, what is it, three days?"

"Yes, Natalie, we IM each other for about an hour every three days... But I only get to hear his voice about twice a month!"

"Mara, you have all of his cds!"

"It's not the same thing, and you know it Natalie! You know what it's like to..." And she stopped.

"Finish it." I hissed. She shook her head. "Finish the damn sentence, Mara." She walked over to the couch and sat next to me. **"FINISH IT!"** I cried, standing up and throwing the cup of tea at the wall behind her. It shattered as it connected, the sound of the breaking ceramic causing my sister to flinch. "Finish. The. Sentence. Mara." I ordered through teeth clinched so hard that I felt like they'd shatter as the mug had.

"You know what it's like... not to hear from the man you love." She said weakly, as she started picking up broken shards of pottery. A large stain was beginning to form on the couch cushion, but that was kinda why we decided on a black couch when we had picked out our furniture - I tend to throw things when I get upset, so almost all of the furniture in our flat is a dark colour.

"Why is that, Mara?" I asked, dangerously calm. She glanced at me from under her bangs - looking for all the world like a scolded puppy.

"What happened to you tod-"

"Why do I know what it's like, Mara?" She sighed.

"I'm not going to play this game with you, Natalie. I'm not going to encourage your childish behavior anymore. You made your point, now tell me what the problem is." I glared at her. "You're only proving to me that you're behaving childishly. Now, let it out."

So I let it out - in the form of an over-handed throw of a take-out carton full of stir-fry noodles.


	8. Chapter 8

Looking back, I probably shouldn't have thrown a carton of take-out at my sister's head. Why? Because soy sauce can stain walls.

"Natalie, you need to learn to control yourself. You can't just go around throwing things whenever you're angry." Mara said as she dipped her scrub brush into the soapy water. "Natalie, are you even listening to me?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. You know, Mar, I think this is a lost cause. We should just buy a painting to cover it up, or something."

"I'm getting the feeling that you're not actually talking about the wall." She replied as she began to scrub at the soy sauce stain.

"Of course I'm talking about the wall, Mara. Where the hell else would we hang a painting?"

She sighed and turned to look at me. "Ever since the incident three years ago, you've just been 'covering up' how you feel by acting the way you do." I groaned. If she knew everything about how to deal with my anger, why did she become a CSI instead of a psychologist?

"Wow, Mar, that's, like, really, really deep. But I honestly _was_ talking about the wall. Maybe we should paint it a dark red or something." I looked at the scrub brush in my hand. "Or maybe grey. A nice, dull, dark, drab grey wall to go with our black sofa, our black chaise, and our black recliner. And let's not forget our charcoal carpet, too. Blacks are safe colours. They're dispassionate yet warm... Not like maroon suits, white frilly cravats, silver moonlight hair and smokey brown eyes."

"...Did Edgeworth say something to you, Nate? Is that what set you off?" She's quick, my sister. Of course, she'd been with me since conception, so she knew how my brain worked by now. Maybe _that's_ why she isn't a psychologist - she only really knows how my mind works, not just people's minds in general.

"...He didn't say something to me as much as he did something." I replied, tossing my brush into the bucket. It hit the side and knocked it over, spilling soapy water onto the carpet. "Aww, shit. Today is _not_ my day..." I groaned. Mara sighed (she's almost as accomplished a sigher as... Well, she's really good a sighing.) and went to the laundry room for some towels.

"I think we've established the fact that you need to stop throwing things." She said as she came back into the room with an armful of towels.

"I didn't _throw_ the scrub brush. I _tossed_ the scrub brush." I pointed out as I grabbed a towel and started rubbing the carpet.

"Natalie, don't rub it! You'll trap the soap in the carpet fibres!" Mara took the towel from me and gave me the bucket. "Go fill this with water - _Not hot water_, just room temperature."

"How the hell am I supposed to know if it's room temperature or not?" I asked with a smirk. "Do you want me to measure the temperature in Ferenheit, Celsius, or Calvin?" I laughed as she tossed a towel at me. "Hey - I thought we established the fact that there should be no more throwing in this house!"

"We established the fact that **YOU** can't throw things in this house, doofball. I'm not you, despite the physical and genetic evidence that may suggest otherwise." We both laughed - people do confuse us from time to time. In fact, the judge presiding over Larry's trial became so confused because of us (And the fact that, whenever the prosecutor said "Wright" at least two people responded) that he called about ten recesses just to sort everything out.

I smiled as I walked into the kitchen to fill the bucket with water. I had sucessfully diverted my sister's attention from my sucky day, while also planting a little seed of doubt in her mind about Edgeworth. "Next up - my illustrious brother, Phoenix Wright." I murmured as I turned on the tap. I was going to make that man pay for what he had done to me by investigating my past... And it was _NOT_ going to be a small fee, either.


	9. Chapter 9

I don't own Phoenix Wright or Miles Edgeworth. They belong to Capcom.

I do, however, own Natalie, Mara, Icarus, Mona, and the ferrets.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Wright & Company Law Offices, Phoenix Wright here!" Well, I had to hand it to him – he really knew how to answer a phone.

"Hey Nick… Are you busy?" I asked, picking up an ink pen an clicking it. "I was planning on running some quick errands, and was wondering if you would mind if I stopped in so we could… chat." Audible gulp on the other line. "Nick?"

"I'm, uhh… I'm not busy, per say… But I was planning on, um, running some errands myself, and, uh, you caught me right as I was heading out the door-"

"Your errand wouldn't happen to have anything to do with my boss, would it?"

"Wha…What makes you think that it has anything to do with-" Busted. I smiled cynically as he continued to dig himself further into the hole he was stuck in.

"I overheard a very… _interesting_ conversation between the two of you earlier today. And it made me wonder just how Miles Edgeworth ended up finding some of those facts out… Especially since Daddy made sure that all of the official records were sealed and scattered."

As a child, I had really hated the fact that my father worked all the time – he was always in his office talking on the phone to foreign dignitaries, or going to meetings in a suit and tie. But when I became a victim in a decidedly nasty incident back east, it turned out that my dad's involvement with the feds gave him the power to 'lock and lose' all documentation having to do with my past. In order to have found anything more than my school and medical records, Edgeworth would have needed super clearance – like, presidential permission – to get at it.

And then, like a bullet shot from a gun, I realized that there was another way that the Prosecutor could have found out about my past... All he would have to do was look at that stupid scrapbook Nick made.

"Nick. Did you let him see that retarded scrapbook of yours?" I gasped into the phone. "Tell me you didn't. Swear to me that you never showed that damn album to Miles Edgeworth!"

"I was just... Reliving the past a little! I mean, there were a bunch of photos of us together as kids, and all of that kind of stuff... He asked to borrow it, and... I let him. And then he called me this morning, saying that he had some questions about you, and only then did I remember that I had all of those newspaper clippings in there. Of course, by then he had already found some of the files dad had ordered to be scattered..." His voice fell to a whisper. "I... I _am _sorry, Nat."

"You're...Sorry? You're _sorry_! HAH! Phoenix Wright, I can't believe you! I mean, why the _HELL_ would you go and do that? I've asked you - No, I've _BEGGED_ you- to destroy those clippings...! **AUGHH**!" I threw the phone at the wall, screaming.

"Natalie Rhiannon Wright, what did I say about throwing stuff in the house?" Mara yelled from the living room.

"I. DON'T. GIVE. A. DAMN. ABOUT. YOUR. RULES!" I screamed. "PHOENIX IS DEAD. I SWEAR TO GOD, I AM GOING TO GO TO HIS OFFICE RIGHT NOW AND KILL THAT- " Maralie ran in to the kitchen, looked quickly at the phone, the wall, me, and back. She sighed as she realized that I had destroyed yet another phone. I continued to scream and rant until she grabbed my shoulders and looked me in the eyes.

"Natalie, you need to calm down. Do you hear me? Calm. Down." She walked me down the hall to my bedroom, still holding my shoulder. She pushed the door open with her foot and shuddered at the mess. "At least let those _things_ be locked in their cage." She mumbled as she pushed a pile of clothes off my bed. "Sit down." I sucked a breathe between my teeth and sat down next to my twin. She took a look at the large cage in the corner of the room, staring it down. She obviously couldn't see the "Dynamic Duo" from where she was sitting, but she was going to remain hyper-vigilant, just in case. I choked on a laugh-turned-sob as she shuddered again. She looked at me and began stroking my back. A few hot tears leaked out of the corner of my eye when she reached over and stroked my cheek, pulling my head to her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around me and held me as I sobbed into her chest.

* * *

"Natalie, do you want to talk about it?" She asked me later as my tears subsided. I wiped my eyes on a shirt sitting crumpled on my bedside table. Mara grimaced and reached over to rifle through the mess on my desk until she found the Kleenex box. She pulled five or six tissues out, offering them to me. "Blow." I laughed shakily and complied.

"You sound like Mum." I said as she took the wad of tissue from me and threw it towards the overflowing trash can.

"Young lady, this room looks like a pigsty." She drawled, surprising me with a near-perfect imitation of our mother's "Southern Belle" accent. "I declare - how do you live in such filth?" I laughed out loud at this. Mara grinned sheepishly.

"I didn't know you could do that, Mar." I told her as I got up off the bed and walked over to the trash can. I bent down and picked up the used Kleenex, shoving it into the pile. "How long have you kept that a secret?"

"I dunno." She replied, pulling her knees up to her chest. "It was kind of a fluke that I even discovered it, to be honest." I quirked an eyebrow at her, and she blushed bright red. "Last year's Christmas party at the office. I had a little too much eggnog." This admission shocked me even more than the out-of-character impersonation of our mother. "But you're changing the subject, Nate. Lemme ask you again: Do you want to talk about it?"

"I... It's a long story, Mallie." I sighed as I walked over to Sherlock's cage.

"Mallie? Wow... You haven't called me that in years, Nay-Nay." I turned my head to look back at her, as twin smiles of reminiscence crossed both our faces. I turned back to the cage, crouched down on my knees and opened the cage door. Colourful tubes and tunnels stuck out from the plexiglass walls of the main compartment, which contained a little cloth tent suspended from the ceiling of the enclosure, a few little fabric balls and other toys littering the floor of the cage, and a food dish and water bottle. The ferret bed shook slightly as I crinkled one of the toys. Somebody was sleeping, the little devil. I lifted the flap of the tent and found a sleek, warm body. _Sherlock_. I stroked his fur, and smiled at his sleepy snuffles. My little varmint curled into a tighter ball, then uncurled himself and stretched.

"Rise and shine, Little Man." I whispered, my voice hitching slightly. He blinked and yawned as I wiggled a feathery toy back and forth in front of his pointed nose. Mara shuddered again. She can't stand my hobs, Sherlock and Watson - something I've never really understood. I mean, ferrets are sweet. Don't get me wrong - they can be naughty, thieving, smelly little bastards at times, but for the most part, they're cuddly and rather affectionate. Sure, Watson's a conundrum- most ferrets are sleek and muscular, while Watson, on the other hand, is a barrel shaped tub of lard. But Sherlock? Sherlock's a great example of a perfectly healthy little... Houdini.

"NATALIE!" Mara screeched. I spun around - just in time to see Sherlock shoot out the door, a beige and black streak intent on escape. Mara pulled her knees even closer to her body and pointed to the hallway. "Go catch him before he gets into my room!" I sighed as I got up off my knees when a scrabbling noise coming from one of the tunnels caught my attention.

"Aww, Watson... Not again..." I groaned, and motioned to my sister. "Mara, help me out here." She shook her head vehemently. "Mara, either help me get the 'Good Doctor' unstuck from this tube, or go catch Mr. Holmes." She hadn't moved a single inch. "You know what? You are such an oddball. You take pictures of dismembered corpses pretty much every day, and you own, like, twenty different kinds of bugs - Live bugs, mind you - and you're afraid of a pair of ferrets?" She shook her head at that comment.

"I'm not afraid of those little monsters, Natalie. It's just...Remember that first time that your ferret got out? When he destroyed three pairs of shoes, killed _and ate_ a bunch of my beetles, and sprayed pee all over my carpet?" I nodded absently as I eased my rotund white ferret from the tunnel he'd shoved himself into.

"I had his musk glands removed after that - and it was a long time ago. He's grown up since then." I replied as I put Watson's halter on him. "My dear Watson, you need to lose some weight." I muttered as I lengthened the straps so they would fit around his fat belly. I clipped his leash to his collar and stuffed Sherlock's gear into my pocket. "Alright, Watson - looks as if the game's afoot. Again." Mara smiled in spite of herself.

"You are such a doofus." She rolled her eyes and climbed off the bed. "Tell you what. I'll help you find your renegade if you'll tell me what you're so angry about. Deal?" She asked, studying Watson, who had snuggled himself around my shoulders like a scarf.

"I guess so." I agreed as I walked out the door. "Sherlock?" I called, removing Watson from my neck. "Sherlock!"

"Here, ferret, ferret, ferret..." Mara said, halfheartedly. I smirked.

"That'll never work- Oh, hey!" I stopped suddenly. "Don't move. He's over there." I motioned to the couch - and the furry tail that zipped underneath it.

"He probably found some leftover stir-fry down there." She stuck her tongue out at me. "Now, start talking." I sighed as I knelt slowly to the floor.

"Hang on." I whispered. "Let me catch him first-" And then the doorbell rang. Sherlock shot out from beneath the couch, Watson started yipping, and Mara ran towards the door. "Don't open it yet!" I threw myself at the runaway ferret, caught him, and clipped on his harness and leash in one quick movement. Mara clapped, impressed. "Just like catching a perp on the run." I replied, standing up and bowing. "Come here, you two." I swooped down on the ferrets and turned towards my room. "You can answer the door now, if you wish." I called over my shoulder.

"Will do." Mara called back.

"Okay, you two - play nice. And Watson - stay away from the tunnels, alright?" I closed the cage door and walked back out into the living room.

And there, sitting on the couch, were my parents - Icarus "Russ" and Mona Wright.


	10. Chapter 10

Hey there, true believers - Hanna here, coming at you with chapter 10 of "Three Wrights and an Edgeworth"!

Just wanted to let all of you know that, in case you haven't noticed, This story is not only getting longer chapters, but it's also getting darker. I've been told that I have to warn my readers about certain elements, such as drug use, self harm, and stuff like that.

**Well, consider this a warning - this chapter contains evidence of tobacco use, drug abuse, and cutting (self-mutilation).**

But it also has a really awesome flashback scene, so it all evens out in the end of the chapter.

And I actually do own all of the characters in this chapter. Wait... No I don't. Phoenix Wright is Capcom's, and Seren is owned and written (with incredible talent) by XstormyX.

Also, I don't speak any language other than English (unless Pig-Latin counts) so all of the "Foreign Endearments" Natalie's boyfriend spouts off were found by using Google translate. So, if I got anything wrong, PLEASE TELL ME!

And I hope Natalie's pet-names don't offend anyone of Spanish/French descent, as they aren't meant to be offensive in any way, shape, or form.

**Enjoy it, my beloved fans**!

* * *

"There's my eldest daughter!" Dad cried, standing up and enveloping me in a hug. I rubbed my nose in his blazer - my father's unique smell of pipe tobacco, ink, peppermint, and books flooded my nostrils.

"Dad...!" Mara and I laughed. Dad has always called us both his eldest daughters - we were delivered via C-section, so we were literally born at the exact same time. "Do you want something to drink...? I think we have some iced tea..."

"Is it made with that flavoured, powdered mix that you girls drank all through high school?" I nodded with a smirk. Mum sighed and shook her head. "Ice water is fine, Natalie." She drawled as she got up and walked around the room, stopping in front of the book shelves lining the wall. "Well now - What is _this_?" She asked, lifting a crystal rose from its stand on the shelf.

"I wouldn't touch that..." I warned her, but it was too late - Mara ran in and snatched it out of our mother's hands.

"I would appreciate it immensely if you would ask before you touch anything, Mother." Mara said as she stroked the intricate glass flower. "To answer your question, it's a Venetian glass rose. Seren sent it to me from Italy when they were on tour there last year." She lifted it to her nose, as if smelling it. I lowered my glasses and looked at her wryly, catching her eye. She realized she was about to smell a glass rose, smiled at it fondly, and put it back on the shelf.

"Ahhh, yes - the illustrious Seren." Mother said, rolling her eyes. "When do your father and I get to meet this obsession of yours, Maralie?" I sucked in a quick breath and walked into the kitchen, only to find my father walking out of it with four glasses of water. I took them from him and set them on the table.

"Soo... Why are you and Mum here?" I asked as I pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and motioned for him to take a seat. He sat and turned to me, a sly grin on his face.

"What - your mother and I can't stop in every once in a while to see you two?" He asked, a twinkle in his eye. I groaned and ran my fingers through my hair.

"Dad... You aren't here just to visit." His smile faded. He sighed and removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose wearily.

"Always the detective." He said wearily. I nodded and tapped my fingertips together. "I don't quite know how to tell you this..."

"Someone accessed my file." I murmured. He looked up at me, shock mixed with sorrow.

"Yes... May I...?" He inquired quietly, taking my right hand. He turned it, evaluating the scars on my wrist. I looked away. He dropped it and motioned for my left wrist. I showed it to him.

"I stopped doing that, you know." I whispered. "I'm working on quitting my other 'destructive behaviours', too." I added as he pulled my sleeves up to look at the insides of my elbows. "Do you want me to take off my socks, too?"

"Should you?" He replied, equally quiet. He reached over and brushed a lock of hair from my cheek. I brought my arms open and crossed them in front of my chest, suddenly feeling cold. "Natalie?" I shivered. It was cold then, too... On that night, four years ago... The night my heart was broken forever.

* * *

"Hey, check it out, Naytay!" I turned to watch as my boyfriend threw a snowball in the air, followed by another and another - three snowballs. I clapped as he began to juggle them - round and round they went, spinning through his hands like magic. "Pretty good, _si_?" He asked, grinning. **WHOMP! **I laughed as I bent to make another snow-missile. "Oh, now you're in for it!" He teased, wiping snow crystals from his face. "Didn't they teach you anything about attacking an un-armed civilian at the police academy?"

"If they did, I was far too busy daydreaming about you to have noticed!" I called, ducking under a low-hanging tree branch. "You missed, Zaney!" I jeered, sticking my tongue out and quickly lobbing a pair of snowballs at him - both of which connected with their intended target, knocking him over. I ran over to him and plopped down on his chest.

"Mercy! Mercy! Ooomph! _La belle dame sans merci_!" He protested laughingly as I began to tickle his neck. "You know, if you don't get a job as a detective, I'm sure you could become a human torture device for the government." He remarked as I punched him playfully in the chest. "Seriously, though - what will you do if you don't get the position?" I rolled off his chest and began to make a one-winged snow-angel on the ground next to him.

"I dunno... Maybe I'll marry a French-Spaniard cop with a penchant for juggling..." I replied with a laugh. I felt him go stiff next to me. "Zane?" I asked, sitting up. "Zane." He sat up suddenly and our lips met. We kissed for a few moments before I pulled back. "That was nice." I murmured, my heart pounding in my ears.

"Yeah..." He replied, brushing snowflakes from my hair. We kissed again. "_Bueno_." He smiled lazily.

"My butt's all wet from sitting in this snow." I told him, standing up slowly. He laughed as I swatted his hand away from my backside. "That wasn't an invitation to grope my ass, you pervert." I informed him with a grin as I took his gloved hand in mine. We walked out of the park and to his car. "Let me just grab my bag outta the back... I have a change of clothes in it."

"You brought a change of clothes...?" He asked, lifting his eyebrow slightly.

"Don't be a pervert. You told me that we were taking a walk in the park. Since it's wintertime, that generally means a snowball fight... It was just a process of deduction - Purely elementary, my dear Alekzander. Now, don't peek."

"You're going to change in the backseat of _my_ car, and you expect me not to look? I dunno about that, _mi amor..._" I swatted him again.

"Be good." I warned him as I ducked into the back of his car. I pulled my boots off, slipped my skirt over my wet jeans and shimmied out of them. I heard a disappointed sigh coming from outside the car - I shook my head, exasperated with the antics of my older boyfriend.

"_Me vuelves loca__..._" He complained as I got out of the car. He reached for my hand.

"I drive you crazy, do I?" I grinned, sticking my hands in my jacket pockets. He shrugged and laced his arm through mine.

"This works just as well, _ma chérie_." He commented with that annoyingly lazy smile that made my heart flip-flop. I leaned my head against his shoulder and grinned.

"I still haven't found anything for Phoenix." I told him later, while we were sitting in a little cafe drinking cocoa and sharing a piece of cheesecake. "I got Mara a jacket, Mum a gift card, Dad a collection of Poe's short stories... But nothing for my brother." We had been Christmas shopping for a few hours.

"Get him a tie." He crossed his arms behind his head. "What did you get me, _mon amour_?" I shook my head as I took a sip of cocoa.

"Augh! That's _hot_." I said, putting the mug down on the table with a clink. "He doesn't need anymore ties - he's got more ties than he needs. And I'm not telling you what I got you, Zander - It'd ruin the surprise." I picked up the mug again, carefully blowing on the drink before taking a cautious sip.

"I can act surprised. I'm a really good actor." He replied, striking a dramatic pose. "Alas, Poor Yorick... I knew him, Horatio! A fellow of infinite jest-"

"Alright, alright already! You can stop acting like a nerdling anytime now. You know, I think that's the first time I've heard Hamlet being played by the Spanch." He grinned and offered me a forkful of cheesecake. I opened my mouth - only to have him pop the fork into his own mouth. "Hey!" I protested. "I thought that bite was for me."

"_A bon chat, bon rat_. The 'Spanch', eh? You've called me that forever... What does it mean, anyway?" He asked, frowning at his mug of cocoa. "I think you got more _bombon_ than I did, _chica_."

"_You're_ Spanch. Half Spaniard, half French. Spanch." I informed him with a grin. I looked into his mug, and then looked into my own. "I'm pretty sure you and I had the same number of marshmallows, Z. It only looks like I have more because you ate some of yours already." I finished my drink and offered the cup of gooey half-melted marshmallows to him. "You can have mine, though." He smiled, looking for all the world like a kid on Christmas morning. "Sheesh, Zane - if I had known that a half a cup of marshmallow gunk would make you this happy, I'd given you one months ago!"

"You know what would make me really happy, _mi bella_?" He asked, scooting closer to me.

"What, my Zaney Conquistador?"

"You, me, and that mistletoe hanging above the door over there." He chuckled as he pointed to a little boutique across the street. I glanced over to where he was pointing and laughed.

"...Zane... That's not mistletoe. That's an evergreen swag." I laughed again. "You are so clueless - sometimes I wonder how you became a police officer." He smirked.

"I knew that. About the evergreen, I mean. Tanya has decorated the house with that stuff since before I was born. I just wanted to mess with you." He winked and draped his arm over my shoulder. "But we can still kiss under evergreen boughs, right?" I looked up into his iced mocha eyes and delicious smile.

"We can kiss anywhere you want to, my love." I snuggled deeper into his embrace, smelling his unique mix of cinnamon, aftershave, and musk. I shivered.

"Are you cold? Do you want _mi la chaqueta_?" He asked, concerned.

"Hmm? _Mi la... _Oh, no - I don't need your jacket. Let's get outta here - I have to be home in two hours, remember?" I reminded him, running my finger along his scruffy jaw. "I thought your mother hated it when you don't shave."

"But I'm not dating my Mama, am I?" He whispered in my ear, sending more shivers down my spine. "So her opinion doesn't matter to me as much as yours does, _chica_."

"I'm flattered. Truly flattered." I stood up, offering my hand to him. "Come on, Alek. Let's paint the town _rojo_." He laughed as I threw a bit of Spanish back at him.

"After you." He said, opening the shop door. We walked out into the chilly evening, marveling at the sparkling lights in the snow covered trees. "I can't believe you got your brother an MP3 player." He shook his head, grinning. I took his hand in mine.

"Why is that so hard to believe, Zane?" I asked him, squeezing his hand tightly in mine. "Phoenix likes music, and it was a great deal." He nodded, tilting his head back to catch a snowflake on his tongue. "Ahhh... Zane. You are such a mystery to me. One minute, you're this calm, cool police officer, and the next minute you act as if you're high." He stopped in front of a bench, brushed the snow from it, and sat down.

"I **am** high - High on youuu-" He crooned, his Latino accent becoming thicker. "_Amorcito... Corazoncito..."_ He drew me into his lap. "My love... My heart..." He kissed my ear, his tongue tracing its curves. "_Te necesito...Te adoro_..." He whispered, his breath warm against my face. "I need you...I adore you..."

"Zane... You are such a man whore." I informed him, kissing his cheek. "You're going to get yourself in trouble with my parents one of these days."

"Why is that?" He asked, a slight dash of French vanilla joining his smooth Spanish coffee accent. I shrugged.

"You've been laying it on pretty thick lately, that's all. Mum and Dad already think that our age difference is pushing it..."

"It's not that bad, is it?" He looked down and counted the years on his fingers. "Four years isn't that far apart." I tapped his fingers.

"Five years, Love. 22 minus 17 is five." He smiled sheepishly before changing the subject.

"Do you want to open your present now?" He asked, fishing a package out of his coat pocket. "I have to leave for Spain in two days, and I won't be back until after the New Year." I nodded, twirling his jacket pull strings around my finger. "Look at me." He said, lifting my chin with his knuckle. "It's not that long, _Cariño_. Just a few weeks- just like when I went to that training in Maine."

"A few weeks in Europe is different from a few weeks in Maine, Alek. Maine was a two hour drive from my house. Spain is, like... forever away."

"We can still call each other, Natalie." I nodded slowly. "Are you going to open this?" He asked, tapping the gift box in my lap.

"I dunno... Should I? I mean... I want to open it now, but I don't want to..." I muttered, pulling the ribbon off in spite of my indecision. Zane wrapped his arm around my shoulders and kissed the back of my neck. I hummed faintly as I pulled the wrapping paper off of the box. "Is it a bracelet?" I shook the box, and, hearing nothing, frowned. "Not a bracelet..." I lifted the lid of the box and found an airline ticket. I shot up off his lap, and jumped up and down on the sidewalk. "Seriously? Zane - My parents -"

"I already talked to them. You'll be going along with us as a temporary nanny for Rene, Filipe and Marcos, because my parents gave Tanya the time off for Christmas." I laughed aloud as he swooped me up into his arms and spun me around. "You're coming to Spain with us for Christmas, _Mi Querida_!" We stood in the snow, a couple in love - oblivious to everything happening around us.

That is, until the sound of a gun filled the silent, snow-covered streets.

* * *

Translations:

_Si - _yes

_La belle dame sans merci - _the beautiful lady without mercy

_Bueno - _good

_Mi amor - _my love

_Me vuelves loca - _you drive me crazy

_Ma chérie - _my dear

_Bombons - _marshmallows

_Mon amour - _my love

_A bon chat, bon rat - _to a good cat, a good rat (in retaliation)

_Chica - _girl

_Mi bella - _my beauty

_Mi la chaqueta - _my jacket

_Rojo - _red

_Mi Querida - _my dear


	11. Chapter 11

Like chapter 9 before it, chapter 11 of "Three Wrights and an Edgeworth" has dark elements in it.

And, as I said in the last chapter, I don't speak French, Spanish, or anything other than English. So don't hate me if I get some of the foreign words and phrases wrong, okay?

Phoenix Wright belongs to Capcom, and Seren belongs to Stormy (and Mara, LOL)

Also, the lyrics to the song "Like You" belong to Amy Lee/Evanescence

Onward, my pretties!

* * *

"ZANE!" His body fell to the ground with a sick thud. "Zane, no, don't fall, get up, Zane get up ZANE!" Blood was everywhere. I was so numb - I fell to the snowy ground, cradling my boyfriend's body in my arms. "Zane...!" I cried, clutching him to me.

"Natalie..." He reached up and shakily stroked my face. "Shhh... Don't cry... _Aughhh_...!" He shuddered, gritting his teeth in pain. I unzipped his jacket to look at the wound.

"Oh, God... Zander... Hold on. Stay with me, okay? Stay here with me..." I pleaded, frantically searching my purse for my cell phone. "Keep breathing,_Mi Bello_..."

I stripped my coat off and pressed it against his shoulder to staunch the blood flow. "C'mon, c'mon... Yes! My name's Natalie Wright... Yes...yes, Officer Alekzander Castella has just been shot - With a gun, what else? We're downtown... Near the southern entrance to the park... The shooter was wearing a white jacket with the hood up... Perp may have had a ski mask on... I don't know - Look, my boyfriend is bleeding here!... Yeah, slightly below his right bicep... Look, he's bleeding out! Send an ambulance, and I'll answer all your questions on the way to the hospital, alright?" I flipped the phone shut. Zane coughed weakly.

"Be nice... Could be... A future co-worker..." He joked despite his obvious pain. "_Aughh_... _Querido_..."

"Zane, stop talking. You need to be quiet, and stop moving." He tried to sit up, but I gently pulled him back into my arms. "I mean it! You need to lie still so I can keep constant pressure on this, so you don't bleed out!" We sat in silence, the ground around us slowly turning pink, and then red. After a few minutes, he began shaking - either from the cold, shock, or blood loss. "Zane... Stay with me! Zane, please..." He shook his head weakly, hushing me with a sad smile. He took a deep, slow breath and released it. He did this over and over again, each breath becoming weaker and shallower.

"_Te Amo_,_ mon trésor_... _Eres mi ángel, Mi Cielo..._" He shuddered again, and cried out feebly. "_Il s'agit d'adieu, l'amant..." _He took another breath - the shallowest yet.

"Zane, you can't leave me - please. Zane! I need you, Zane! _Te necesito-" _His body spasmed once, twice. I had to lean in, bringing my ear to his lips, and I could still barely hear his ragged whisper.

" _Adieu_...Natalie..._adiós, amor_..._" _He spasmed once again, and then fell still.

"Zane? ZANE...! ZAAAANNNNNE!" My world turned black as the love of my life died.

* * *

I awoke in a hospital bed. To the sound of my mother yelling.

"Are you incompetent? My son's a lawyer - I'll have him sue your little Bayou ass so fast -" The sensation of my pulse ringing in my ears nearly overpowered the sound of mother's southern squeal - almost. I must say, though, that I was more than slightly surprised to feel my heart beating in my chest - I thought that it had withered away to nothing, or had shattered into a billion pieces. "- I could have you fired, you piece of-"

"Mother - just... Shut up. You're going to get yourself in trouble. And.. You're giving me a headache. I can't..." I winced, running my fingers through my hair - sweaty, greasy...Not that I cared... It just meant that I hadn't had a shower in more than 48 hours. And I took a shower right before I had gone out with... "Zane..." I whimpered. My mother's head whipped around like a dog's.

"Oh, yes - I'm glad you brought him up. I always knew that the boy was trouble. He went and got himself shot-"

"_Shut. Your. Mouth_. Just... Shut the hell up and get away from me. There's the door." I pointed, tilting my head and hiding my face behind my hair like a curtain.

"Missus Wright, I'm gunna have to ask you to leave." The nurse said, taking my mother -ranting and raving - by the arm and leading her out of the room.

"Thanks." I muttered. She nodded, reading the chart at the end of the bed. "Why am I... What am I doing here?" I asked her, looking her over. She was a large African-American woman, about 5 and a half feet in height. Her long black hair was done in cornrows, with each braid weighted down by a length of brightly coloured beads. Her scrubs were printed with dayglow fish swimming on a muddy brown background.

"You 'member what happened, _chérie_?" I shuddered and lifted my hand in the universal 'hold on, slow down' motion. She stopped, looking at me patiently.

"Could you... Could you not speak in French, please? My..." I stopped, unable to speak around the lump that had formed in my throat. "My... Zane. My boyfriend, Zane. He spoke French. And Spanish." I took a deep, shuddery breath. "And now he's... He's gone. He was shot." I said, emotionlessly. The nurse nodded sympathetically.

"Look, cher- ah, honey." She started, walking around the bed to come stand next to me. "The bullet grazed your neck." I reached up to touch my neck and felt a gauze bandage. I looked at my arm - an IV had been inserted into the inside of my elbow at some point.

"The bullet..." My voice caught in my throat. "The bullet that... killed Zane..?" She nodded again, gently. I looked up at the ceiling. "I was going to go to Spain with his family... Spend Christmas with his Father's side... Then we were going to head to France for New Year's with his mother's family... France at New Year's... I was looking forward to being in the most romantic place on earth to celebrate the new year with my boyfriend... But now... I'll never taste his lips again... Never hear his voice again... I'll never see him again..." I stared out the window, watching the snow fall. "Could... Could you leave me alone, please? I just... I need to be alone."

It was only after she left that the tears began to fall.

* * *

_"...I loved him. It wasn't just... Teenage hormones, or puppy love, or a crush, or anything petty like that. _

_Alekzander was, and always will be, my soul-mate. I will never love anyone as much as I loved him. And... I miss him._

_Te extraño, mon cœur... Te extraño."_

"That was a beautiful speech, Nat." Mara said, walking up to me. She reached for my hand, squeezing it gently. I let my hand go limp. She took the hint, let it go, and walked back towards her chair.

"I'd like to leave." I remarked emotionlessly. _I'd like to die_, My heart screamed. "I'm going back to the apartment." Mara stopped and looked at me, curious.

"His parents are letting you stay there?" I didn't respond. Zander's lease on his apartment was paid for until the middle of March, so I had taken refuge there after I had been released from the hospital. His parents, shocked at the death of their son, had cancelled their trip to Europe. They were being polite - if, by polite, one meant 'indifferent to the suffering of their deceased son's girlfriend'.

"Bye-bye, Nalie." Came a child's lightly accented voice. I turned and saw Marcos, Zane's youngest brother, sucking on his thumb with a vengeance. He was a sobering sight in his little black mourning suit. Standing about four feet behind him was Tanya, the au pair, holding the hands of his other brothers - Rene and Filipe. All of them were wearing black. I walked over to where my family had been sitting - Mara and Daddy had also worn black. Even Phoenix, who had surprised us all by showing up two days before the funeral, was wearing a suit that was a much darker shade of blue than his usual attire. He had also traded his typical eye-catching red tie for one in a far more subdued shade of burgundy. Of course, as if flipping the bird at my deceased boyfriend one last time, my mother was wearing a black pant suit - with hot pink trim, a huge pink purse and a pair of matching patent-leather pumps.

"I'm leaving." I told my father, glaring at my mother's ugly, slap-in-the-face pink bag.

"I'm sorry about your mother, Natalie. She was -" I waved him off.

"Don't worry about it, Daddy. Mum's just decided that she hates me at the moment. It'll pass, I'm sure. I mean, look -" I pointed to where my mother was talking to my older brother. "They're actually talking. They haven't done that since Nick went to court for supposedly killing that guy. Talking is progress-" And, right as I said that, Mum slapped Nick in the face. "Well, they were talking." I muttered as Dad cringed.

"Mona! What has gotten into you?" Dad called as he trotted over to where my mother was beating the living snot out of my brother. I decided to make my exit.

* * *

-**6 Months Later**-

_"I long to be like you,_

_Lie cold in the ground like you._

_There's room inside for two and I'm not grieving for you,_

_I'm coming for you."_

The irony of the song playing on the radio was darkly amusing. I _did_ long to be like Zane - cold in the ground. I shuddered as I exhaled, blowing smoke through my black-tinted lips. I looked at the clock on the dashboard... He was late. I gritted my teeth, a growl forming in the back of my throat. I began tapping my long black nails on the steering wheel, counting the seconds that my latest partner was wasting.

"Sorry, Detective Wright." He apologized nasally. I rolled my eyes in disgust.

"You satisfy your little Twinkie fetish, Marsh?" I inquired sarcastically as I started the cruiser.

"Actually, I don't have a Twinkie fetish, per se. It's a snack cake addic-" I turned up the radio with one hand while flipping the ash off my cigarette out the window with the other. As soon as I had finished, I realized that I could have flicked the ash into Marsh's lap and may have very well saved the human race by doing so, by simply making it harder for this imbecilic waste (and waist) of meat to procreate. I groaned as he continued droning on and on about Hostess and Little Debbie snack foods. "-Of course, Snoballs are good, as are Cosmic Brownies... I also enjoy Zebra Cakes every so often-" And that was about the time when I lost it.

"WILL YOU SHUT THE HELL UP?" I turned to him, shouting angrily. "I mean, what the hell - can you honestly NOT tell the difference between when someone makes a snide, sarcastic remark and when someone has an actual, genuine interest in your pathetic life? Let me give you a hint - I. DON'T. GIVE. A. DAMN. ABOUT. YOU!"

The remainder of the ride was blessed with silence.

* * *

-**18 Months Later**-

It was nearly midnight by the time I got home. Another homicide in the area - another man shot dead while on a date with his girlfriend... My Zane's killer was still at large. I unlocked the front door of my small flat and stalked back to my bedroom and slammed the door shut, the click telling me that the lock had caught. I gave the curtain rod on the window a violent twist, closing the blinds and sending the room into near pitch-blackness. I threw myself into my chair and yanked the pull-chain on my desk lamp. A low golden glow illuminated the centre of the desk. I swept the papers and files to the side and pulled out the top left drawer. I rifled through the mess to find the small gift box I kept there. I put it on the desk and opened it, smiling at the contents. A razor blade, hypodermic needles, a wide black ribbon and some gauze, as well as some other, not-so-legal items. I got up out of the chair and padded over to the dresser. I yanked the bottom drawer open and pulled out a bottle of clear liquid. I held it up, looking at it in the light. I uncorked the bottle, sniffed it, frowned, and put it on the desk. Rubbing alcohol, while necessary for my bi-weekly ritual, was not what I wanted at the moment. I reached back further into the drawer and my fingers brushed another bottle. _Come on, Mr. Daniels... _But then the phone in the kitchen rang. _Dang it all... _I closed the drawer, walked out to the kitchen and answered the phone with something akin to a snarl.

"Detective Natalie Wright... You're lucky I'm not asleep, captain. I'm not very nice when someone wakes me up for no reason... Oh, yeah, I was going to talk to you about that-... Yeah, well, he's incompetent-... I refuse to work with that grossly unqualified excuse for a police officer-... This is just like the first time you tried to make me work with someone. Remember Marsh?... Look - You told me to give him a chance, and I gave this guy a week. That's 4 more days than I gave Marsh and the rest of the losers you try to partner me with... Well, has it ever occurred to you that I_ WANT_ to work alone?... -Look, I'm exhausted, and I worked YET ANOTHER one of the shootings-... Yes, the same jackass who shot Zane. I KNOW that!... Don't start with me. I'm going to bed." I hung up as my superior continued to rant. I took the phone off the hook and went back to the sweet blackness of my room. I locked the door behind me and sat back down in front of my desk. I rolled up my sleeve and tightly tied the ribbon around my upper arm. I waited a few seconds, preparing the hypo. I soaked a few squares of gauze with rubbing alcohol and cleansed the spot on my arm where I was going to insert the needle. I flicked barrel of the syringe with a glossy black nail, making sure I wouldn't give myself an embolism by trapping an air bubble in my veins. I stabbed the needle into my arm and then pushed the plunger. I sat back, waiting for the drug to start working it's magic. I pulled the hypo from the inside of my elbow, untied the ribbon, and began to sterilize everything with the rubbing alcohol. I put the kit away as I began to feel the sweet touch of Somnis creep through my veins.

Several hours later, I awoke, curled up on my bed. I hated myself for what I was doing, but, at the same time, I hated everyone and everything else in my life, and the drugs made all the hatred go away. It was only for a few hours of dreamless slumber, but it was impossible to sleep otherwise. I sat up slowly, the vestiges of the drug-induced slumber making me feel isolated from the world. Everything was muted - the sounds of the city outside my window, the colours of the clothes strewn about the room... It seemed as if everything was a shade of gray. I climbed off the bed and walked out to the kitchen. Looking in the fridge, I decided I wasn't actually hungry. I turned to the phone and plugged it back into the wall. I took a deep breath, and made up my mind. I picked up the phone and dialed the number written on the sticky note my sister had stuck on the wall several weeks before. The phone on the other line rang once...twice...three times... I was about to hang up after the fifth ring when a rather seductive male voice answered the phone.

"Mara... I was just wishing I could hear your voice. You must be psychic as well as beautiful, my sweet angel of mu-" I held the phone in front of me, staring at the receiver in my hand as if it were a poisonous snake. "Mara? Are you there, Baby?" I brought the phone back up to my ear.

"I'm assuming you're... Seren?" I inquired. "This... This is Natalie, Mara's sister. She gave me this number for..." I paused, realizing that I was about to tell a complete stranger my secret. I couldn't do it. "...For some reason. I assumed it was her new cell phone number, or something." I finished lamely.

"I see." The man on the other end paused, and I thought I could hear the strains of a familiar tune being played.

"Are you... Is that "13 Years Hard Time For Love" playing in the background?" I asked.

"Well, what do you know? You are quite the investigator, after all! And yes, that's the song we were in the middle of practising... If you don't need anything, Detective Wright-"

"How do you know I'm a detective? And what do you mean, you're in the middle of practising?" Mara had never mentioned that her new boyfriend was a Gavinneer!

"...I'm dating your sister. She's the one who told me you were a detective. And, as for practising... Like I said, you're a detective." I could hear someone call his name - the up and coming young rock star Klavier Gavin, perhaps? Seren covered the phone with his hand before yelling something back in what sounded like German. They both laughed. My German was rusty, and I didn't feel like thinking that hard at the moment anyway, so I let it go. He uncovered the phone and took a breath. "As much as I'd love to continue this conversation, I really do need to get back to practising. It was good to meet you, Detective. Oh, and one last thing - Your sister really loves you." I jerked my head back in surprise, nearly pulling the phone off the wall.

"I mean..." He paused, sounding somewhat hesitant. "You're all she talks about... Kinda makes me jealous, to tell the truth." He chuckled to himself, and then gave a somewhat tentative cough. "But I would hate to think about what might happen to her if something were to happen to you." And with that, he hung up. I returned the receiver to it's spot on the wall with a sigh.

"I need to leave this place." I realized aloud. "If I stay here... Something _will_ happen to me. And I'll be the only one to blame for it." I picked up the phone again, this time to call my sister. "Mara... Listen, I... I called your boyfriend. We didn't talk for very long- he was busy practising. I... Look...You were right. I need to move on." I paused.

"There's an opening for a detective in LA." She said, simply. Understanding me instinctively. I sniffed, tears suddenly blurring my vision.

"Los Angeles, here we come."

* * *

Translations:

_Querido - [My] Darling_

_Te Amo_,_ mon trésor_... _Eres mi ángel, Mi Cielo... - I love you, my treasure... You are my angel, my heaven... _

_Il s'agit d'adieu, l'amant - This is goodbye, lover_

_adiós, amor - Goodbye, Love_

_chérie - dearie_

_Te extraño, mon cœur... Te extraño - I miss you, my heart... I miss you._


	12. Chapter 12

Hey, guys and gals! Hanna here, introducing 3 Wrights and an Edgeworth chapter 12! I don't own Phoenix Wright or Miles Edgeworth (but, like many other obsessed fans, I totally wish I did)

So, I've had several people asking some very good questions about this story, and I felt that I should answer them here as opposed to answering the same questions over and over again, :3

So, on with the FAQs!

When exactly does this take place? At the moment, it takes place during (and after) Ace Attorney: Trials and Tribulations. This chapter, specifically, takes place a few weeks after Bridge to Turnabout. By chapter 14 or so, It'll fizzle into Ace Attorney Investigations.

How is Stormy's OC Seren dating Maralie here, but just meeting her in Moving Shadows? Heh, that's called "alternate timelines." I, being the brain housing the Wright sisters, felt it would be a good sideline if Mara had a boyfriend. The only logical choice was Seren Aded, Stormy's sexy British playboy. Check him out in xstormyx's fics, "Turnabout Serenade, Indeed" and "Moving Shadows".

Did Mrs. Wright sell her soul to the devil (or some variation of that question)? Of course not - Dahlia Hawthorne and Kristoph Gavin are too busy to purchase Mona Wright's soul. :) But, as for her general... Meanness... You'll get some insights in this chapter.

Why did you kill Zane? He was so hot/cool/awesome/etc.! I kinda had to. First of all, I need the angsty depression Natalie's throwing around to have an origin somewhere, and Secondly - Do you know how _hard_ it is for someone who doesn't speak a lick of French or Spanish to write a character who tends to throw sappy foreign endearments into nearly every sentence?

Are any of your characters based on real people you know? Some of them. Mrs. Wright is based on my second and third grade primary school teachers, as well as this guy I went to school with who had PTSD and Bipolar disorder. Mr. Wright is kinda based on Santa Claus, LOL! Zane is a culmination of Diego Armando, Inigo Montoya, Zorro, And a sexy French guy who I hope to one day meet. :P

Natalie is my little Athena - she sprang from my mind, fully realized. Mara quickly followed when I realized that Natalie needs someone earthy to balance her uber-fiery personality. And Seren's not mine, but I picture him as being a British Phantom of the Opera meets Superman - mysterious, smoulderingly sexy, obsessive, but also sweet, kinda shy, extremely loyal, and totally willing to put his life on the line for his girl. :)

Any more questions, put 'em in your reviews, or drop me a PM!

Oh, and super thankies to Stormy for being my inspiration, my beta, and Mara's future mother in law, LOL!

* * *

"Natalie..? Sweetheart, what's wrong?" I shook my head, clearing it of the memories that had taken me over. I glanced at my father, who was looking at me, his face a study of concern.

"Memories are funny things, aren't they, Dad?" I said quietly, looking down at my hands. "One minute I'm sitting here, talking with you... And the next, I'm…" I shrugged as my mind slowly turned blank, "…watching... it... happen all over again." Another pause and then I flashed him my best smile. "Tea?" I asked, standing up and walking over to the sink.

He nodded slowly, so I filled the kettle with water and turned on the stove. I felt my father's concerned gaze burning into my back and I fought hard to keep my cool (ha!) demeanor. I turned and looked him in the eye. "Dad, just — stop — _worrying_, okay? I'm fine." I smiled, resting my elbows on the counter. My father stood up and walked over to stand next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. We both winced as Mara and Mum's conversation began to get louder.

"Do you have flashbacks often, Natalie?" I took a deep breath as I considered the question.

"I suppose you could say that... But it really depends."

"On what?"

"A lot of things, to be honest. Sometimes I'll hear a voice that sounds like his... Or I'll smell cinnamon and roses, and swear he's standing behind me with a bouquet..." I shrugged again. "Stuff like that. And every once and a while, I'll just... I dunno. I'll be here, and then I'm… I'm holding him in my arms." I paused as the kettle began to whistle. I reached to get the teapot and a pair of teacups out of the cupboard. "Earl Grey?" He nodded. "The weird thing is..." I continued quietly. "Lately, I've been... feeling it." I put the bag into the porcelain teapot and poured the boiling water over it, watching the golden brown tea swirls of tea seeping out of the bag.

"Feeling it... how?"

"Like... it's kinda like our positions are switched, and I'm the one being shot, only... Instead of looking up into Zane's face…" I took a deep breath, making sure to avoid his eyes. "I see my own." I paused, waiting for any comments but my father was quiet and then it was all coming out in a rush, as though if I didn't get it all out now, I never would. "Like, _I'm _Zane. And then, I say what he said... And I watch myself — the other me, not the Zane-me — say what I remember saying. And then... My vision starts fading, and it gets hard to breathe... And..." I stopped to pour the tea. I took my cup and opened the door to the patio to escape the sounds of my mother and sister arguing about Seren.

"And?" My father probed after we had been sitting in relative silence, enjoying our tea.

"Hmm..? Oh." I put my teacup down on the patio table. "Where was I... Ah." I nodded almost genially; I suddenly felt detached from everything, as if the story I was telling didn't quite relate to me. "Well, it gets hard to breathe, and then... I think... _I think_ I die. The Zane-me, I mean. And then, I wake up — or whatever you want to call it." I looked up at him and hesitated before I went on, knowing my next revelation was going to get a more vocal reaction from him. "And it's not just Zane. I've seen — and felt — other people..." He frowned, waiting for me to finish my sentence, "…die. I've seen others die."

"What?" he sputtered.

I raised the cup to my lips as I spoke, hoping the fragrant beverage would dull the effect of my words. "I see dead people."

No such luck.

"Natalie, this isn't funny!" he reprimanded, drawing himself up.

"I know that, Daddy. I swear to you, this isn't a joke." I sighed. This was going to be difficult. "I don't actually see _them_. I see their deaths. From their point of view, but... Yeah. It doesn't happen all the time, either. It's triggered by something but I'm not sure what it is. Could be a smell, or a sound... The last time it happened was when I was at a crime scene with..."

I stopped as the memory slowly seeped into my head. The last time it had happened was two days before Miles Edgeworth asked Nick if he could borrow _that_ album. A horrifying possibility hit me: had I said or done something during my little episode to arouse his suspicions? Is that why he'd gone digging into my personal life…? I turned to my father.

"You know how some of my files were opened?" He nodded slowly, unsure of where I was going with this. I continued. "Guess which brainless idiot caused this whole mess?"

"How did Larry Butz get ahold of your files?" he demanded and I looked at him, more than somewhat surprised.

"...I'm not even going to touch that statement. But no, a different brainless idiot. Let's call him... The new black sheep of the family."

A look of growing dread swept across Dad's face and he groaned, massaging his temples. "His album?" he asked, groaning again as I nodded. He shook his head, releasing a sigh of frustration. "How many times have I told that boy..." He muttered. "Well, I guess that means I don't have to look far for whoever accessed your files."

"You don't have to look at all." I announced blithely. "I'll give him a call. In fact," I turned, a slightly sardonic smile playing on my face, "I'll call them both."

* * *

"I wasn't—I didn't — Dad, you have to believe me!"

By now we had all moved into the living room. Mum and Daddy were sitting on the couch, Mara was perched on the edge of the coffee table and I had thrown myself into one of the recliners. Nick was sitting on the ottoman in the centre of the room, and Edgeworth was sitting (rather uncomfortably, I might add) in the other recliner, which was (conveniently) the closest chair to the door. He looked like he would rather endure having metal shish kebab skewers shoved under his fingernails by an angry walrus (which, to be honest, is an interesting mental image) than be here right now. I didn't blame him: Daddy was chewing out my brother for being a jackass.

"Phoenix," he was saying in a low voice. "I don't want you to say a _thing_." My father was a retired U.S. special agent. He didn't do scary often but when he did, he made Jack Nicholson seem like the host of a little girl's tea party. And, speaking of tea, I had made another pot of it — if only to keep my boss from running out of the house screaming in abject terror.

I'm not ashamed to say I found the whole thing highly amusing.

"Dad, I—"

Dad motioned to Nick to shut his mouth. "I want you to get rid of that stupid album."

Nick whimpered, which seemed to be the last straw for his friend: Edgeworth suddenly shot up out of his chair and headed for the door. Dad, as if anticipating my boss' reaction, was suddenly standing in front of the doorway. He stopped Edgeworth, grabbed his arm, and yanked him back into the den.

"Wow. Can you teach me that trick?" I asked, impressed at my father's skill. "Just in case he tries to ditch me at a crime scene or something." I added, remembering the incident we'd had recently with his elderly fan-club of one, an obnoxious woman named Wendy Oldbag. I shuddered at the memory of her endless chatter.

"Not now, Natalie." Dad turned his full attention to the prosecutor. "Why did you feel the need to investigate my daughter, Miles?" He asked, placing his broad hands on Edgeworth's shoulders, causing him to twitch nervously. It was obvious that dad had pretty much shown these guys not to mess around: Edgeworth looked to be on the verge of passing out in fear, and Nick had been rendered silent (a near impossible feat). Though having no sympathy for my idiot of a brother, I did melt slightly when I saw Edgeworth's usually stoic expression quickly succumbing to one of full blown terror.

"Dad, don't scare my boss. I need to work with him tomorrow." I said, looking him over. He shook him slightly, eliciting a whimper.

"Miles Gregory Edgeworth, you are not going to wobble your lip and give me an innocent expression. It didn't work when you were ten, and it sure as hell won't work now." Daddy warned, continuing to shake him. The thought of my boss giving _anyone_ puppy-dog eyes should have sent me into hysterics, but it didn't. In fact, it made my mouth really dry. I poured myself another cup of tea as my sister spoke up from her corner of the room.

"Your middle name is Gregory?" Edgeworth mumbled unintelligibly. "What'd you say?"

"It was his father's name." We all turned and looked at Mum in surprise, taken aback by her sudden urge to join in the conversation. "Gregory Edgeworth. He..." She paused, taking a deep breath. "He was a friend of your father's. They were in school together." She smiled fondly, which meant she was stuck in the past again.

Daddy and Nick had always told us that Mum had been a beautiful, loving woman once. I can sometimes remember her laughing and playing with Mara and I, but the memories were hazy. Nick said that she stopped smiling about a month after Gregory Edgeworth's death. She'd become hard... bitter. We knew it wasn't because of Mr. Edgeworth's death though — it was because of something that happened after it. Or maybe because of it...?

"I remember the night Misty and I first met you guys," Mum was saying, turning to Dad. "It was a blind date, do you remember? You were so nervous that you couldn't say your own name! Of course, Greg had enough charisma for an entire football team..." She paused, remembering it all. "On the way home, Misty told me that she knew that Greg was her soul mate. And I have to admit, they made a great couple."

"Wait a moment," Edgeworth's voice cut right into her tale and we all turned to look at him. The fear had left his face and he was now glaring angrily at my mother. "Y-You're saying my father was involved with that...That medium?"

"'That medium'?" Mum repeated, incredulously. The rest of the Wright family flinched - this was going to get ugly. "She was more than that! Misty Fey was—"

"A fraud!" Edgeworth shouted, court-room style. "She was a fraud whose desire for money and fame ruined a man's reputation! My father's murderer wasn't caught until more than a decade after the incident because she was a liar!"

"You better hear _all _the facts before you go about accusing her," Mum said coldly. "Misty Fey was anything but a liar." When Edgeworth began to object, she lifted a hand and gave him that creepy, _'don't argue with me or I'll make your life a living hell' _look moms are famous for. I was impressed, despite myself - I knew how hard it is to fluster my boss... And she had him flash frozen, scared silent with a single glare. "Young man… Your papa may have kept certain information from you - but don't expect me to do the same."

"Wait, what sort of information? Mom, what-" Nick said, speaking up at last and I saw his look of fearful confusion. I frowned. What was going on here? They were obviously referring to something that occurred before Mr. Edgeworth had passed away... But what?

"Shut up, Phoenix."

"Mom, I'm really not sure what you're talking about, but I don't think you—"

"Wright," Edgeworth said sharply. "For once in your life, could you just shut your mouth?"

All the while, Mum kept her eyes intently fixed on the prosecutor as if she was judging something. "You have her eyes, you know," she said calmly, scrutinizing his features. "Misty Fey had the most incredible eyes. Sometimes it felt like she was looking into your soul." Miles Edgeworth gasped and turned a deathly shade of white. "Even if she hadn't told me the truth herself, I can see her in you."

A heavy silence descended on us in which Nick, Mara and I looked at Mum half confused (because we had no idea why she'd chosen to bring this up now) and half exasperated. (because only our dear mother could drop a bombshell like that.)

"Yes, Miles," she said, picking up her teacup and taking a sip, seemingly oblivious to the alarming shade of purple Edgeworth was turning. "Misty Fey was your mother."

At this, my boss fell out of the chair in a dead faint.

"This is the second time a member of this family has nearly killed my boss." I muttered as my dad and Nick carried Edgeworth over to the couch. Mara came in, wringing her hands.

"Should we call 911 or something?" she asked, gesturing to the prosecutor, who was now laying on the couch, unconscious.

"He'll be fine," Nick replied, shucking off his jacket and sitting down on the black leather recliner. "He does this when he freaks out about something."

My father walked over to Nick and placed his hands on the arms of the chair, giving my brother his steeliest glare. "Don't think for a second that we're finished with our conversation, young man," he warned. Nick nodded, his focus still on his friend and Dad also turned to look at the unmoving figure of my boss. "It does worry me that this is normal for Miles, though. It's an extremely odd reaction to stress."

"Not all stress, Dad. Just... Super stress. Like earthquakes, blackouts, Wendy Oldbag..."

Our eyes widened when, at the mention of the crazy woman's name, Edgeworth shot up, searching the room frantically. Nick seemed unsurprised by the reaction. In fact, he was blatantly trying (and failing) to stifle his laughter as he watched his friend.

"She's not here, Edgeworth. Just relax, alright?" he said, trying to placate him.

It didn't work. Edgeworth swung his legs over the edge of the couch and shook his head. Then, as we all watched, he turned increasingly furious eyes on my mother who, of course, was completely unruffled by (or, more likely, completely oblivious to) the daggers being thrown her way. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but seemed to change his mind. His gaze turned to me, his face once again taking on it's emotionless mask. Slowly, he rose to his feet and brushed himself down.

"I'm leaving," he said (a little unnecessarily, I might add) as he walked to the door. "Don't bother coming in to my office tomorrow, Detective. I won't be there." And then he was gone.

"I have no idea where he picked up such a violent temper. Neither of his parents were quick to anger... Oh!" Mum paused, patting down her pockets frantically. We all looked at her, wondering what rabbit-trail her mind had gotten lost on now. "I just remembered something Misty had given me before she...Before she left. It was something she wanted me to give her son when the time was right." She said, as if any of us had actually vocalized our inquires.

"I think you've blown his world outta proportion enough for a while, Mother. There's no point in going overboard." I muttered.

She didn't respond, but chose instead to refresh her cup with the newly brewed pot that Phoenix had just placed on the coffee table. "Hell's bells! What is this?" she sputtered, spewing coffee everywhere in a very unladylike manner.

"Smells like coffee, Mama," Mara said, handing her a napkin while trying to keep her giggles in check.

"Why is there coffee in the teapot?"

"It's my fault, Mom," Phoenix replied, running a hand through his hair. "I've developed a taste for it, lately." He looked out the large bay window to where Edgeworth appeared to be knocking his forehead repeatedly against the frame of his car door. "Do you want me to go calm him down?"

"Nah. He could probably stand to lose a few brain cells." I said, a devilish thought coming to mind. "Say Nick—" he turned to look at me "— This new caffeine dependency hasn't come about because of all the sleep you're sacrificing to spend time with a certain someone in the detention centre…?" He shook his head warningly. I pressed on, regardless. "Or is it because of your last trial?" I asked, taking the teacup (err, coffee cup) from my mother, who was staring at Nick, curiously. Phoenix glared at me. "What?" I asked innocently before he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me towards the kitchen.

"We'll be right back," he said, smiling at our mother.

Once we entered the kitchen, I jerked my wrist from his grasp. "What is your problem?" I hissed, hitting him with a dish towel.

"_My _problem? What's _YOUR_ problem? The victim in my last trial was Misty Fey! Or did you forget that?"

"...I didn't forget, Phoenix." I shook my head in exasperation. "I _WAS_ investigating the case too, you know. Maybe not super involved in the investigation but still _involved_. I just don't see what the big deal is. If she asks, just tell her that the victim's name was... What'd she call herself? Deaunix? Deaumin? Deau..."

"Deauxnim. Elise Deauxnim," he said, sighing and leaning against the sink. "She was posing as a children's book author and illustrator. Well, not posing... more like... she re-imagined herself as a children's book author and illustrator."

"She _was_ a children's book author and illustrator, Nick." I sighed, cleaning the coffee out of the teapot. "Totally off the topic... But why the heck did you make coffee in my teapot?" He shrugged. "Has anyone ever shown you how to make coffee, Phoenix? Or how to do anything remotely domestic, for that matter?" I asked, handing him the bottle of dish soap without waiting for an answer. "Well, consider this your first lesson. Fill the sink with water. No, not that one. That's for cold water." I turned the knob for hot water. "Wait for it to get warm, and then put the stopper in the drain." I demonstrated. "Pour some dish soap – Not that much!" I sighed, watching the soap bubbles overtake my counter. Nick looked at me sheepishly. "Put the dirty dishes in the soapy water and scrub them. Then, rinse them with warm water and put them in here." I said, transferring the dripping saucer to the drying rack. I handed him a dishcloth. "Do you think you can handle drying this—" I handed him the teapot "— and then putting it in that cupboard?" I gestured to one of the cabinets above the stove. "And, whatever you do, _don't _drop it—"

As if to emphasize my point, the sound of shattering glass filled the air, followed by the sound of Mara screaming.


	13. Chapter 13

Hiya guys and gals! welcome to chapter 13 (My favorite number, by the way) of three Wrights and an Edgeworth.

I don't own Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth, Franziska VonKarma, Misty Fey, or Klavier Gavin and his band of Floppy Men. Four out of five Floppy Men belong to XstormyX.

Speaking of Stormy, I gotta do a quick shout-out before I go -

Stormy - You're totally awesome. This fic wouldn't be here without you. Seriously. If it hadn't been for "Turnabout Serenade, Indeed" and "Moving Shadows" I never would have tried my hand at this "writing" thing we do. Thanks for letting me play with your boys! I promise I'll treat most of them with respect. But it's not my fault if Raoul comes back emotionally scarred (if that's at all possible, LOL)

On with the story!

* * *

"MOTHER!" Mara screamed, sending Nick and I running into the living room. I covered my mouth in horror as I saw the reason for my sister's screams - shards of crystal lay on the floor at our mother's feet. "Mother, why did you... What's wrong with you?" She cried, falling to her knees with a wail. Mum just stood there, staring at one of the shelves, paying no attention to the despair she had caused her daughter.

"Mum - what did you do?" I asked, snapping my fingers in front of her face - no response. I looked over to my father, who was kneeling down next to my sister, trying to calm her. "Mum! MUM!" I took her by the shoulders and shook her. "Mother! Hello? Mom!" I glanced over to Phoenix, who looked back at me, his feeling of confused helplessness plain on his face. I looked back at my mother and noticed she held a thin book. I followed her gaze to where it had been - she had pulled it from one of Mara's many "Seren Shelves"- Shelves where she proudly displayed items her British boy-toy had sent her from the many places that his band, the Gavinneers, had toured in. One such gift was now in my mother's trembling hands - it was a children's book about angels, or something like that. Seren had written the lyrics to Mara's favorite song on the inside cover, along with a wonderfully romantic poem that I pretended disgusted me. (I actually found it rather adorable, but I didn't share that fact with anyone.) Mara had propped it up behind the crystal rose, saying that the dreamy softness of the watercolour painting on the cover would go well with the sharp beauty of the glass rose. Then, like a bolt of lightning, I realized who the illustrator of the book was - one Elise Deauxnim, otherwise known as Misty Fey. Mother would - and did - recognize her best friend's style of artwork. "Oh, bloody hell." I muttered, steering my mother to the couch and gently pushing her down into the cushion. At the sound of my quiet curse, Nick tilted his head, asking me a silent question. I merely pointed to the book she was clutching for dear life. He walked over to her and peered at the cover.

"Oh, wonderful. Way to go, Maralie." He winced as he, too, realized the reason for our mother's odder-than-usual behavior. Mara made a funny mewling sound in the back of her throat and we both turned to see what was wrong.

"My rose... She... She grabbed the book, and it knocked my rose off the shelf..." She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her emerald green sweater, leaving behind streaks of dark green mascara. I walked over to her, taking her hands with mine.

"Mara..." I began gently, careful to avoid upsetting my sister any further. "Why don't you go call him? I'll let you have a full hour." I offered, pulling her to her feet and guiding her to her room. After I had settled her down enough so she could dial, (a process which took a good 30 minutes) I walked back into the living room. "You guys should probably leave." I said to my father, who merely nodded. I walked over to my mother and reached for the book. "Give me that, Mom." She just stared at it, unblinking. "Mom. Give me the book." I coaxed, placing a hand under the book.

"Mona, we have to go. Give Natalie the book." Dad said, standing slowly. She silently dropped the book, letting it fall into my outstretched hand.

"Misty painted that. This is Misty's painting." She mumbled. "I told them Misty wasn't dead... And she wasn't...She was painting... She painted that." Dad took her by the hand, walking her out of the house and to their car. I sighed.

"Now what am I supposed to do?" I asked, turning to my brother. He had reached up and was running his fingers through his hair, his face pensive, his mind somewhere else. "Phoenix." He looked at me, surprised. "Where were you just now, man?" He yawned, covering his mouth with his other hand.

"Sorry... I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"About a lot of things. I just realized that Maya is Miles' little sister... And it's kinda weird, but, in the back of my mind, I think I may have known that. I mean, now that I do know it, and the surprise has worn off... I can see some similarities." I scoffed. Nick's unofficial assistant was, in my opinion, absolutely nothing like my boss. "Think about it, Natalie. They've both dealt with seeing the ones they love shot before their eyes... They both have a hard time expressing how they really feel..." I stood up, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach. There was a third person my brother was unwittingly describing - myself.

"I'm going to go take care of my ferrets. You'd better head back to your office before it gets dark, 'cuz I'm not gonna pay for a cab." I told him as I headed down the hall to my own room, closing the door tightly behind me.

* * *

**-Note - this next part takes place about two and a half months after my oneshot, "Saving Miles".-**

**-While reading the oneshot is not neccesary, it is advised.-**

**

* * *

**

"What time did the schedule say the flight was coming in?" Mara asked for the forty-trillionth time.

"2:30." I didn't even have to look up from my book - She had been asking the same question every 3 minutes since the airport's clock had struck 2. We had been sitting at the airport for three hours - three very long, very boring hours, filled with Mara's odd emotional reactions to the announcement of each plane's landing - she would go from quivery excitement to weepy anxiety as she realized it wasn't the plane she was waiting for.

"What time is it now?" She continued, squirming in her seat. I sighed and rolled my eyes, placing a business card in the book to mark my page and dropping it into my purse.

"2:15. Look, why don't you take a quick walk or use the restroom or something? I'm going to go get a snack and a bottle soda." She perked up at the mention of food.

"Can you get me some Snackoos?" She asked, turning on the puppy dog eyes. I shook my head. "Please...?" She begged. I was about to respond when we both heard the familiar - and, thankfully, far away - sound of a whip slicing through the air.

"Franziska." We said, mirroring each other's shudder. Aside from being one of the other prosecutors I had to work with from time to time, Franziska vonKarma was one of the few things that came to mind when people asked me what I was afraid of. (The other things on the list are my brother's cooking, my mother without her medication, and teenage pop idols who can't sing or act, like Hannah bloody Montana and the Jonas Brothers. Well, I'm not afraid of them per say - I just can't stand them.) I stood up from my seat and stretched, bidding Mara to do the same when the announcer came over the sound system.

"Flight number 1337, non-stop from Munich, Germany has landed. Passengers are now in the process of disembarking. I repeat flight numbe-" His speech was drowned out by the sound of Mara's scream of excitement at the sight of five guys walking towards the security checkpoint. One of them, a brunette with a green pull-over jacket, stopped cold, searching the area frantically. Mara shrieked again, waving to him. He found her, his body practically vibrating with his desire to hold her. Another one of the guys, this one dressed in a simple yellow and cream zip up hoodie, picked up the green carry-on bag that Seren had dropped when he first heard Mara's voice and put it on the conveyor. Daryan Crescend - wearing a tight navy-blue t-shirt, his usually god-awfully hair tied back in a sedate ponytail - shook his head, thumping Seren on the back. He said something to the green clad rockstar, gesturing over to my sister with his head. The one in yellow - Deston Cavatin - nodded his agreement. Seren punched them both playfully on the shoulders before jumping over the short wall that divided the two excited lovers. Mara ran to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he lifted her off the ground in a twirling embrace. My eyes watered as I remembered a similar embrace - one that turned out to be the last embrace I would ever share with my own love, Zane. I shook the unshed tears from my eyes and laughed as I saw that the security officer was now holding all five of the band member's bags, looking slightly confused. Suddenly, someone's hands came from behind me, covering my eyes.

"Did you miss me?" A lightly accented Italian voice purred in my ear.

"Yes, actually. I just got a new paintball gun, and I haven't had the chance to shoot it yet. I bet your balls would make the perfect target." I answered, smirking as his hands shot away from my eyes. I turned, looking Raoul Adagio over. "Welcome back, dickhead." I said, thumping him in the chest. I felt another arm, this one snaking around my waist lazily. I snuggled into plum-coloured silk for several seconds before pushing away. "Hello, Klavier. Thanks for bringing my sister's man whore back." I said, nodding towards the couple, who were quickly making a scene.

"Okay, I think it's time to go, boys and girls!" Deston called, reminding my sister and her boyfriend that they were still in public. I grinned as Raoul stalked over to the security guy, taking the bags from him. "Ride's here." Klavier looked at me, silently asking me to ride with him. I shook my head.

"I drove here, doofus. Besides, I need to make sure Gumshoe didn't totally destroy Edgeworth's office while he was gone." He pouted prettily. I smacked his face lightly. "Stop that. You have billions of fan girls around the globe. Pick one that _wants_ your undivided attention and sexual harassment." He raised an eyebrow wickedly.

"Ahh, Fraulein... It's not harassment. It's called flirting - and you do it well." He said with a wink. I shoved him towards the rest of his bandmates.

"Go soak your head, Gavin." I laughed. They walked out, Mara turning to yell that she'd be home after dinner. "After dinner tomorrow, maybe." I thought, shaking my head with a grin. I looked at my watch. I hadn't told my sister (or anyone else for that matter) my true reason for staying at the airport - Miles Edgeworth was due to return for his trip to Borgia. I hadn't seen my boss for around a month, and was very much in need of the intellectual stimulation I received when working with him. That, along with the fact that I had been assigned to work alongside Winston Payne during Miles' absence, had made me rather mournful at the temporary loss of my verbal sparring partner. I grinned at my train of thought. The day before he had left for Borgia, I had finally beaten him in a game of chess. He smiled - actually smiled - in delight. He then set the board up again and had me repeat the same play. I shook my head at the thought of the way his boyish smile transformed his face.

"He did it! That guy there, inna pink suit, he dun kilt the man! Kilt him dead!" A small man in cowboy boots shouted. My interest perked, I trotted over to the airport police who were trying to control the accusatory group. It was then that I saw Franziska vonKarma... And Miles Edgeworth? "I don't believe y'all fer a second! There ain't no way in Hell that purdy lil' stewardess coulda kilt that man, and that there's a fact!"

"Miles?" I called, incredulously. Wait...A guy in a pink suit killed someone...? I flashed my badge to the police officer. He cleared a path, allowing me to walk over to my boss, who was studying Franziska closely. I stood next to him, placing my hand on his arm to catch his attention. He turned and I caught his eye, tilting my head towards the troublemaker. He shook his head, pointing with his chin to the police officer behind us was reading the rights to a young stewardess, who appeared to be attempting to twist the head off of a teddy bear. I looked at the patch of darker fabric on his side. He rolled his eyes.

"It's a grape juice stain-" He began, only to be interrupted by the short wannabe cowboy.

"Shut yer mouth, ya frilly, pink wearing killer!" Cowboy roared, sticking his fat finger into Edgeworth's chest. "Ya probly kilt him a'cause he called ya queer or summat, dinnit ya? Ya sick sunova-" I calmly pulled my handgun from it's holster on my belt and turned to the irate cowboy, giving him an icy smile.

"You're angering me. I'm not a nice person when I'm angry." I said, shifting my gun to emphasize the point. "Miles Edgeworth is completely innocent. I suggest you apologize for your ridiculous outburst, right now, or I'll find something to arrest you for." He huffed, glaring at me before turning on his heel and storming away.

"You realize he could have sued you for threatening him." Miles remarked casually.

"I know a good lawyer." I replied. I was rewarded with a twitch of a smile. I grinned. "Besides... It wasn't a threat. I just informed him that he was pissing me off and needed to apologize for being a dumbass."

"With a gun?" He asked, eyebrow raised. I sniffed, catching a smell from the cafe in the centre of the airport. A coppery, tangy scent filled my nose. Hot metal...? No - not metal. _Blood_. My heart suddenly skipped - I swallowed, steeling myself for what was coming next. "Natalie." I shuddered, my eyes loosing focus.

"I smell blood..." I said through gritted teeth. The airport began swimming around me, blurring into somewhere else entirely. I lurched forward, a wall of maroon and white breaking my fall. I shuddered again, a parking lot filling my vision. I felt myself moving, a pain in my gut searing through me.

"Tell me." He demanded with quiet urgency. I jerked at the sound of his voice.

"...Airport parking lot..." I managed before crying out in pain as a phantom blade was thrust once again into my ribcage. "...Being stabbed..._AUGH_!" I spasmed as the killer jerked the knife up and twisted it, further destroying my internal organs. "There's... blood on... On the ground...He's..."

"Describe him."

"...ski mask... black ski mask... _aughh_... dark clothes... hand on my stomach. It's cold... can't... focus..." The scene faded, as did the pain. A sob caught in my throat. I closed my eyes, spending a few moments calming myself before opening them again. I looked around - I was now in an elevator - and my feet weren't on the floor. "You can put me down now, if you want." I said, realizing that Miles had carried me here and was, in fact, still holding me. He complied and then nodded towards the elevator door.

"Soon as that opens, we're liable to be entering another crime scene." He said as I straightened my clothes. My eyes fluttered. My... Visions, I suppose you could call them, left me very tired - and very irritable. Luckily for both of us, Miles had gotten over the shock of discovering who his mother was and was actively trying to connect with his sister Maya. In doing so he had to give up his hatred for spirit mediums and unexplainable phenomenons (like my visions). It was a long process, but he was taking it in stride. He had become so used to my sudden freeze-ups and cries of non-exsistant pain to the point where he was almost more prepared for their occurrence than I was.

"Can we avoid it, please?" I whispered, fatigue slamming into me like a wrecking ball. "Aww, crap...I think I'm going to pass out..."

And I did, right into his arms.


	14. Chapter 14

Hey there, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to chapter 14 of Three Wrights and an Edgeworth!

I'm sorry I messed up the time of his flight arriving (from AAI case case 2) But I needed to have the boys' and Miles' flights coincide. But I won't mess up Canon events again, I promise!

Just a quick note - In AAI, the murder that occurred in Miles' office was at, like, 2:00 in the morning - So I guess Natalie was sleeping from about 4:30 pm to now, LOL.

I don't own Miles... *pout*

* * *

"Why is a raven like a writing desk...?" I asked the Mad Hatter as the March Hare finished singing about bats and had now begun throwing teacups.

"I beg your pardon?" I woke with a start at the sound of Miles' voice. I blinked once, shaking Wonderland from my brain, and slowly sat up.

"I was attending an Un-birthday party down the Rabbit Hole. You should have been there - the tea was grand, and the cookies divine. The Mad Hatter and I were considering things that start with the letter '_M_', as well as attempting to solve life's great mysteries, such as why a raven is like a writing desk. Why are you in my house? And how long have you been sitting there?" I asked, recognizing my surroundings. He blinked, processed the statement, and replied.

"Hmmm... How about _Miscellaneous_?" I clapped, delighted that he had decided to play my little game. "As to why I'm here, my office is a crime scene, so I decided that this," He gestured to the room around him, "is the next best thing. As for how long I've been here - I arrived about 15 minutes ago. Did you consider _Murder_?"

"Of course. Did you know that murder is also the name for a group of crows?" I asked, getting to my feet and stalking to the kitchen. I turned the faucet on and filled the kettle to make tea. I heard him walk through the entry way to sit at the table. "What happened while I was asleep?"

"You mean aside from your adventure in Wonderland?" I turned and stuck my tongue out at him. He shuddered before continuing. "You fell asleep in the elevator at the airport parking lot. I had one of the other detectives bring you home." He paused, watching as I pulled a pair of teacups and saucers from the cupboard. "You know, Detective... I never really pictured you to be one for drinking tea." He said blithely as I set a teacup in front of him.

"I love tea. I don't think I could go a day without it, to tell you the truth. The whole process of it... I dunno. I guess it's calming." He nodded. "What did you picture me drinking, if I may ask?" He touched his lip with his forefinger in thought.

"Something grossly uncivilized and over-caffeinated." He decided. I opened the fridge and pulled out an orange soda, offering it to him with a smirk. He grimaced. "To continue on the topic at hand... After looking things over at the airport, Gumshoe and I went up to my office to get some paperwork - but when I got there, my office was unlocked and there was a dead body laying on my floor." I stopped, surprised.

"That's what... Three bodies in 24 hours?" I asked, pouring the boiling water into the teapot. He nodded.

"And, as if finding a body in my office wasn't enough, I was also threatened by a stranger with a gun." He looked at me askance.

"Was he a short, fat cowboy?" I asked, pulling a jar of honey from the cupboard. He gestured for the jar before I had even tried opening it.

"Detective, we both know that opening that means you'll spend a good five minutes just swearing at the jar, and then you'll get angry and throw it at the wall. Give it here." He gripped the lid and twisted it loose before handing it back to me. I frowned. I absolutely loathe jars. They're like Kryptonite to me - And for some dumb reason, organic honey is only packaged in jars. "And no, it wasn't the man you threatened yesterday." He finished, bemused.

"Well, then I dunno who it was, because I was here, chilling with my buddies in Wonderland. God, Edgeworth - would you quit chuckling? It gives me the creeps!" I said, sloshing tea into his cup. It wasn't a lie - hearing Edgeworth laugh did make me feel... Decidedly odd, to say the least. He shook his head.

"It's just... Well, you know how I've been out of the country for over a month, studying Borgianian law? While I was over there, the worst crime that was committed was a bicycle being stolen. But, within 24 hours of returning to Los Angeles, there have been three murders - one on the plane I was on, one at the airport I landed at, and one in my office." He said, calmly stirring honey into his tea.

"And this doesn't bother you?" I asked, astonished. "Someone out there could be gunning for you, you know. I mean, you're probably next!" I added, cracking an egg into a mixing bowl.

"I doubt anyone is 'gunning for me', detective. The man on the plane was murdered by the stewardess, and the man in my office was killed by Prosecutor Portsman." I pulled out the stuff to make french toast as he said this. I had only worked with Prosecutor Jacques Portsman once or twice, but I had the distinct feeling that he might rival even Edgeworth someday. He was nowhere near as polished or... Edgeworth-like... But he had a lot of guilty verdicts under his belt. If only he would have done something about that stupid jacket...

"That still leaves the guy in the parking lot." I offered. "Tell me about him, Miles. I died with him, but beyond that, I don't know anything about him." He stood to his feet in mid sip.

"I have the files in the car. That's why I came, incidentally." He put the teacup back on the saucer and went out to get the files. I yawned and looked at the clock for the first time that morning. Mickey Mouse's right hand pointed at the three, while his left pointed to the eight. 8:15 wasn't a bad time to be woken up by a man with hair like starlight... I stopped in mid-thought. The _HELL_ did that come from? I shuddered, pushing the thought from my mind. He walked back in to the house as I has just finished adding the milk to the french toast batter. He waited as I soaked a slice of bread in the mixture and tossed it on the skillet before he began to read the file aloud.

"Victim's name is Emilio Castella-" I coughed, choking on my tea. He looked at me, an expression of mild concern on his face.

"Did... Did you just say Emilio Castella?" He nodded slowly. "It wouldn't be Emilio Alexander Castella, would it?" I asked, my body turning icy with dread. He looked at the autopsy report and nodded again.

"Yes... That _was_ the victim's name. Did you hear the killer say it?" He inquired, walking over to flip the french toast that had begun to burn.

"No. I... I know him." I whispered. "He's Zane's dad." He looked at me, his eyes narrowing as he searched his memory for the name.

"Oh - Alekzander Castella. Your..." He paused with a frown, making a slow, horizontal twirling motion with his hand.

"Boyfriend." I provided as I dropped another piece of bread on to the skillet.

"Your... boyfriend. Why would his father be here? I was under the impression that all of that occurred before you came here."

"It did. I'm not sure why he'd be here, either, to be totally honest." I flipped the piece of french toast. "We weren't really on the best of terms after... Well, they really didn't have any reason to continue communicating with me after Zane's murder." He watched me carefully as I prepared another piece of bread. "You can relax, Edgeworth. I'm not going to do anything rash. It just makes me wonder..." I trailed off into silent thought.

"Wonder what, Detective?" I turned to look at him.

"Well, right after leaving to come here, they caught a man who _confessed_ to killing Zane. He had killed two other cops, both of whom were in relationships. But... Well, now that Zane's dad winds up here, and he's murdered... I have to wonder if his killer's still out there." I turned back to the stove, placing steaming pieces of french toast on a pair of plates. "Do you want eggs?" I asked, motioning to a plate. He shook his head. "C'mon - I won't spit in them or anything this time." He looked up with a start.

"This time? Are you saying that you spit in them at previous occasions?" I laughed.

"Only in Phoenix's eggs." He settled down at that statement.

"Oh, well... So long as your saliva comes no where near anything I'm about to con-"

"Miles - All I asked is if you wanted eggs or not. I don't need a lecture on sputum." He nodded silently, a tiny glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

* * *

After discussing the case over breakfast, I noticed my boss was looking at the clock often. When he wasn't glaring at Mickey Mouse, he was staring at his watch, as if his pointed gaze would make time go faster.

"Do you need to be somewhere?" I asked, taking his syrupy plate to the sink. "I'm fine now, if you're worried about me going off on a rampage to find this freak. Seeing his death wouldn't bother me, though. Wouldn't bother me in the least." He looked at me, as if assessing the truthfulness of my statement. Apparently it was lacking.

"Speaking of seeing deaths - Gumshoe told me about some of the other...Incidents... That occurred while I was abroad." I groaned.

"Look, I'm working on it, okay, Edgeworth? These stupid visions are happening more often, and the time between the actual event and my experiencing it is shrinking. Who knows? Someday I may even be able to sense someone's death before it occurs." I wiped the plate dry with the dish towel before continuing. "Unfortunately, I still don't know what causes it. I mean, yesterday I smelled cinnamon before I began feeling it."

"What about the other two stabbing victims?"

"He told you about those, too? Story of my life...Nothing's sacred." I said, throwing the dishcloth on the counter. "But to answer your question, no, I didn't smell anything before the event. I think the only reason I smelled cinnamon was because he was... You know."

"Alekzander's father."

"Right. The thing is... These guys aren't the same. I mean, the first two probably were killed by the same man, but the guy who killed Emilio? Totally different."

"How can you tell?" He leaned forward slightly, interested in what I was about to say.

"It's... It's like... Colours, I guess." He looked at me, his confusion plain. I took a deep breath before continuing. "You know how you can look at something - like this towel, here - and you know it's red? You don't know why it's red and not blue... It's just... Red." He nodded slowly, still not understanding what I was saying. "It's like that when somebody dies. Some deaths are red, and some are blue. Red ones are usually the _'Omigosh I'm being killed suddenly for no reason!'_ whereas blue ones are... Well, I guess they're sorta resigned to their fate. Like, they knew it was coming. Of course, it's not totally solid colours - sometimes there's a red one with yellow streaks - _'Omigosh I'm being killed by someone I know!' _or blue ones with green streaks - _'I knew this was coming, but this isn't how I imagined it would happen...'_ But Emilio? He was purple."

"Purple... If red is shock and surprise, and blue is resignation and expectation... Then you're saying that Mr. Castella..." I nodded.

"Emilio Castella started out nervous and jumpy - very red, with a little fuchsia, which is fear. Then, as he turned towards the sound, he turned fuchsia, blue and yellow - he knew, or at least recognized, his attacker, and that scared him. As soon as he saw the knife, he was still fuchsia, but his bright blue had turned to a deep, navy blue."

"So, your thought would be what, exactly?"

"...I think he was stalked. Someone followed him at a distance - someone from home. And when he saw this person, he knew it was over." I put the plates away in the cupboard.

"You're sure of this?" He asked, his eyes narrowed in thought once again.

"I can never be absolutely sure of anything, Edgeworth." He looked at my clock again. "Do you have something you'd like to discuss with Mickey Mouse alone?" He looked at me, one eyebrow raised, as if asking '_what are you smoking?_'. "You're glaring at my clock again." I supplied. "Seriously - if you need to be somewhere, then go."

"I have to make an exchange." He said, running his finger around the rim of his teacup.

"...What kind of exchange?" I asked, heating the kettle to make another pot of tea. It was true, what I had told him about tea earlier. It had become almost an obsession of mine - the routine calmed me, much like... Well, much like some other routines I had practiced in the past. There weren't any needles involved in tea preparation, though, which I suppose is a good sign... "I'm going to assume you're not talking about something you purchased."

"You're correct. I was contacted by a... Well, I suppose you could call him a... A benefactor of mine. He called me after I returned to the country, and asked me to help him out of a decidedly difficult situation."

"You're alliterating - must be serious."

"It is. His son has been kidnapped, and the ransom has been set at one million dollars. He trusts very few people to deliver the money to the prearranged place -"

"You're alliterating again, Miles. Let me guess - he's asked you to be the go-between, and you're nervous." He looked me over before answering the question.

"I'm nervous for Lance's sake. Although he's twenty years old, he... Well, he's not really the most mature - Yes Detective, I know I'm still alliterating - young man one could meet."

"Lance... I'm assuming this is Lance Amano, then? The son of Ernest Amano?" He nodded. I whistled, impressed. "That explains the extravagant ransom. So, when and where does this all go down?"

"It 'goes down' at..." He took his data organizer from his jacket pocket. "Gatewater Land, at approximately ten fifteen this morning."

"Wow. Talk about coincidence. There 's a Gavineer's concert there tomorrow... There's a 'Magical Duel' between Troupe Gramayre and Max Galactica today, though. The place is going to be packed with fans." He nodded, as if I had answered an unspoken question - which, knowing him, I probably had.

"Then that's the reason the kidnapper chose to have the drop-off occur at Gatewater Land - It will be near impossible to track-" He was interrupted by my cell phone, which had decided to belt out the old Disney classic 'Let's Get Together" by Hayley Mills. He looked at me oddly as I answered the call.

"Hey, Mar-... Whoa, slow down. I can't under-... Mara, calm down. Tell me what's wrong." I became more and more alarmed as my sister explained her situation. "Look, sweetie, you need to stop hyperventilating over the phone. I can't understand a word-... Mara, calm down! Mally, put Seren on." The fun loving, easy going Brit's voice was un-characteristically tense as he took over the conversation. "...Hey, Ren. Is he okay?... A mild concussion isn't going to kill him, Ren. Klay's got a thick skull - you know that better than most...How's everyone else?... That's good. Look, Mara was too worked up to explain what happened. Can you fill me in?... A stage light? Did it hit him or-... Okay, so the light knocked over a speaker tower which hit Klavier... You're kidding. His arm _and_ collarbone?..." Miles touched my elbow, but I motioned for him to wait. "I'll be there to check out the stage. Maybe I can find something that will shed some light on the situation... You're right, that was a bad choice of words. I'm sorry... Are you still at Gatewater -... Okay. I'll find him, then... It'll be fine, Seren. Klavier's done stupid shit like this before, and he'll live to do more stupid shit again. See you soon." I hung up, turning to Miles.

"What was that you were saying about coincidences?" He asked, motioning for the dish cloth. I sighed, handing it to him before walking to my room. "What are you doing?" He called.

"Getting ready." I replied, taking off the shirt and pants I had worn the day before. Did I have time for a shower? I looked at the alarm clock on my desk. Nine twenty... Not enough time for a shower, I decided. I wrenched the closet door open, tossing yesterday's outfit into the laundry bin. I had cleaned my room recently, and I still wasn't quite sure where everything was now. "So I guess tomorrow's concert's cancelled, huh?" I called. Hearing no reply, I shrugged. Suddenly, I heard the door open.

"Are you planning to... Good God, it looks like a Gothic Harem in here..." He said, staring at the unmade wrought-iron canopy bed with it's sensual red silk sheets and filmy silver curtains. His eyes swept the bedroom, taking in the black and silver brocade drapes, the blood red walls, the dark walnut Victorian style desk and make-up table, and the ferret cage before even realizing I was standing there, wearing nothing but my underwear. He blanched and covered his eyes with his hand. "Detective! Warn someone before... Undressing! It's obscene!"

"What the hell is wrong with you? You don't just open someone's door and walk in! God, Edgeworth - common sense! Even Phoenix knows to knock first! I mean, damn, even Larry knows to knock first! I'm CHANGING!" He was still standing there with his hands over his eyes like a little boy in a scary movie. He may have even whimpered, for all I know. I decided to pity him.

"Go out in the hall. I can hear you through the door." He didn't move. "Look - I'm in the closet now. You can't see me, okay? So just... Turn around and go out the door."

He spun and slammed the door shut. I don't know what made me more frustrated - the fact that he walked in while I happened to be wearing only my (Emo) Hello Kitty thong and bra... Or the fact that he appeared to be frightened at the sight of me wearing only my (Emo) Hello Kitty thong and bra. I stopped - Why should it bother me that he appears to have a fear of seeing me half naked? Unless... I pinched myself hard on the arm, stopping the thought before it went any further.

"I closed the door." He said, unnecessarily. I didn't answer. I grabbed a pair of pants and tugged them on, looking through my closet for the shirt I wanted. "Are you planning on opening an official investigation into the stage-light accident, or are you just going to look around on an unofficial basis?" Maybe it's because he was raised by Manfred VonKarma? From what I knew of his daughter Franziska, some of his parenting skills were definitely lacking... I finished buttoning my shirt. "Detective?" I opened the door, walking out into the hall, half expecting him to be huddled in the corner sucking his thumb. Thankfully, he wasn't.

"At the moment, I think I'll just be poking around." I replied. "The airport's on the way to Gatewater Land. You can drop me off there, I assume?" He looked at me questioningly. "My car's still there." He nodded once. "Then let's get going."

* * *

Riding in a car with a man who had just walked in on you changing is an awkward experience. Riding in a car with a man who just walked in on you changing and who also happens to be your boss is an even more terrifyingly awkward one. The silence alone was excruciating. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Why'd you freak out like that?"

"What?"

"You know... When you walked in to my room." He shuddered.

"...I had finally gotten that image out of my mind, and now you've brought it back again." I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

"I'm sorry it was such a horrific experience. I didn't realize I was so completely unattractive as to terrify 'the Demon Prosecutor'."

"You aren't unattractive - I mean, I personally don't find you attractive-" Ouch. That one hurt. I threw my hands into the air.

"You know what? Forget I asked." I slouched in the seat, watching the cars fly by in silence. He has to be gay. That's the only possible answer to why he reacted the way he did. Gay guys might be afraid of half-naked women, right? Plus, he wears frilly clothes, has girly handwriting, and frames his jackets. He's soo gay.

"I do need to get to Gatewater Land by ten, detective." I jerked up at the sound of his voice. I looked out the window and realized that we were at the airport. I unbuckled and opened the door, climbing out of his car. I closed the door behind me and started walking towards my own vehicle.

* * *

Disturbing thoughts kept running through my head as I drove to Gatewater Land. "_Miles thinks I'm ugly_." I whispered, a single tear threatening to slide down my cheek. I stopped cold, disgusted with myself. Why the hell did I care what my boss thought about me? But as soon as I had stopped one thought, a similar thought had already wormed its way into my brain. I was so preoccupied with destroying any vestiges of self-pity that I nearly missed my exit. I saw it just in time and cranked the steering wheel over, cutting off two cars. "Sorry!" I yelled in response to their rather crass gestures and honking horns.

I barely suppressed the shiver of revulsion that slid down my back as I pulled up to the parking gate and received the go-ahead from a Blue Badger. I hate those freaky blue bastards - always wiggling from side to side like bloody overgrown dashboard hula-girls. I steeled my nerves and walked into the park. Once I got to the stadium, I was annoyed to discover that the stage had been taken down. "There went my chance to investigate it," I muttered aloud. There were other things for me to check out, though. I noticed a sign that advertised the boys' concert had been covered by a banner that said "cancelled due to unforeseen events including, but not limited to, Klavier Gavin being hit by a falling speaker tower." (Hey, it was a really, REALLY big sign.) I also noticed that many fans had been there already and had left mementos - mostly flowers and 'Get Well Soon' cards, along with some more extreme gifts - like stuffed toys and such. All in all, it looked kinda like a memorial. I paused, looking through some of the cards. I found a ten dollar bill in one of them (It had a phone number written on it) and stuck it in my pocket - what he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?

I stood up and saw a girl in a pink shirt and blue miniskirt (and really big hair) kick a life-sized Blue Badger statue before running off towards "Old West Town" or whatever they called it. I decided to follow her - after all, a girl who likes to beat on the Blue Badger might be pretty cool, and she didn't look that much younger than me, anyway. After a few minutes, she spun around, catching me off-guard.

"Are you following me?" She asked, looking me over.

"Yeah. I noticed your boots when you kicked the badger. Very chic." She looked down at her feet and smiled.

"Aren't they, though? They're also super great for climbing up stuff like walls and trellises, and they have great traction so I can escape really fast!"

"I like the length, myself." I commented, looking her up and down. She did the same to me.

"Your shirt's pretty cool. What is it?" She asked, pointing to the design on the front. I grinned.

"I designed it myself. It's a black sparrow with flaming wings bursting out of an aortic valve." She cocked her head, puzzled. "The aortic valve is part of the human heart." She looked at my shirt and nodded. She then stuck out her hand.

"I'm Kay. Kay Faraday."

"Natalie Wright." We shook hands.

"Well, Natalie, I heard that a bunch of police officers are running around the park trying to catch a kidnapper and that someone lost a million dollars and since I'm the Great Thief Yatagarasu it's my job to-"

"Hold on, Kay! What'd you say about the million dollars?"

"Someone lost them...?" How does one lose a god-awful neon yellow suitcase filled with a million dollars? Apparently, Edgeworth can do it.

"Oh, shit. Look, it was really nice meeting you, but I need to find someone." She put her hands on her hips.

"Who do you need to find? Maybe I can find them!"

"...Yeah, maybe you can. How about you run around the park looking for this guy," I took a photo of Miles out of my wallet and gave it to her. "While I try to reach his cell." She looked at the picture, concentrating on it.

"Hmm... Looks vaguely familiar... Hmm..." She gave the photo another look and nodded. She then handed it back to me. "Well, I'm off! The Great Thief Yatagarasu takes flight!" She cried, running off, her navy blue scarf flying behind her like a cape. I shook my head, grinning. I dialed Miles' number and got a busy signal. Of course. I gritted my teeth in frustration. Not being able to reach Miles meant I had to call HQ. Calling HQ meant I had to first talk to the ditzy operator. Oh friggin' joy.

"Yeah, it's Detective Wright - I'd like to talk to the- ... What do you mean, all calls have to go to the Interpol officer? Wait, say that again? She's long legged? Who's long legged? The Interpol agent? Look, Can you slow down? I'm having a hard time understanding you-" The operator hung up. I have this pet theory that the district hires all of it's operators and receptionists outta the same family. There's _Ehhn_, Miles' receptionist, _Ummph_, the janitor, _Uhhh_, the security guard, and Captain Caffeinated-with-a-speech-impediment, the operator. (I think she's adopted.)I sighed, dialing the number she gave me, hoping I'd understood her correctly.  
"Is this the Interpol agent?... His assistant?... Okay, you'll do. I'm trying to reach my boss... His name's Miles Edgeworth... What do you mean, he's unavailable? He's supposed to be under constant surveillance!... Oh. Well, he never mentioned he'd entrusted that task to Gumshoe... Look, do you at least know where he is? ...What! I work for Miles Edgeworth, not some strange Interpol agent-... Alright, fine. Where are you?...Wild, Wild West?... Fine. I'm on my way." I seethed, flipping the phone shut violently. Gumshoe lost Miles (again), and now I had to work with some Interpol agent whose name sounded like a description of a hooker.


	15. Chapter 15

Hola, True Believers! Welcome to *fanfare* Chapter **15** of Three Wrights and An Edgeworth!

*balloons and confetti appear outta no where*

Wh00t! Can't believe we've come this far! (Actually, I can't believe we've come this far and still haven't really gotten anywhere...)

In celebration of 15 and 30, Stormy and I have concocted a fun little... Fun thing... For all of the fans of Moving Shadows and

Three Wrights and An Edgeworth. It's called "Maren" and it can be found on Stormy's website (link is on our author profiles)

Commencing with 3w1e chapter 15 in 3...2...1... BEGIN!

* * *

"Interpol dude...?" I was getting tired of asking all of these detectives and officers I had never seen before if they were the mysterious agent. Every person I asked would either give me the evil eye or just look at me as if they were a deer caught in my headlights. I was about to give up when I heard a deep voice literally barking into a cell phone. I turned towards the owner of the voice only to run into Detective Gumshoe. "Hullo, Dick." I said, thwacking him in the back of the head. "Heard you lost Edgeworth. Again." He cringed.

"I don't know how it happened, pal! It just... I was watching him one minute, and the next, he walked into the Haunted House, and when I got there, he was gone!" I sighed.

"How long did it take you to work up the nerve to enter the Haunted House, Dick?"

"Hey, Prosecutor Edgeworth told me not to follow him too closely, pal! And besides, there was this thing with the stage for some concert. I ran over there as fast as I could, but they had already gotten everything taken care of. But he hadn't come out when I got back, so then I called back-up. I swear it's all true, pal."

"Do you know where he is now?"

"He's on the phone with that guy." Gumshoe said, pointing to the barking man. I snatched the phone from him.

"Miles- What's going on? Miles?... Dammit!" I threw the phone at the detective. "Gumshoe! Why don't you ever charge your stupid cell phone? Come on, we have to go find him."

"Excuse me - you're a detective, aren't you?" The growly man asked. I turned to look him over. Leather boots, leather pants, leather jacket... Furry boa...? Am I the only one in this place that dresses in a semi-normal fashion?

"Last time I checked. You must be the Interpol agent." He nodded, smiling in a way that reminded me of Raoul Adagio's failed attempts to flirt with me.

"A word of advice - never take something from a wolf." I moaned. I always end up working with fruitcakes - Edgeworth being the only exception.

"Nice. I think I read that in a fortune cookie once. I've got one for you, too - Shut the hell up and point the pissed-off detective to her boss or she can no longer be held responsible for her actions." His laughter sounded like a feral howl.

"You're amusing." He sobered, snapping his fingers. "Shih-Na!" He called, his hand outstretched. I watched as a thin, pale woman in a black dress and sunglasses (and black furry boa) handed him a business card. He turned to me and bowed. "Here, please honour me by taking my card." I took it. He straightened and looked at me, expectantly.

"What? Oh. Sheesh.." I searched my bag, looking for one of my own cards. I heard him huff impatiently. I found one and stuck it in his hand. "We don't exchange business cards like that here." I looked at his card - It had a silver foil wolf's face stamped on one side, and his name, Shi-Long Lang, embossed in Kanji and English on the other. "Lang, huh? That's not Japanese..."

"No - I'm from Zheng Fa." He said, slightly offended. Gumshoe perked up.

"Hey - Mr. Edgeworth's been there! He just came back from-" I grabbed him by the ear. "OwwWOwwOwWww! What was that for, pal?"

"I didn't have a whip." I muttered. He whimpered slightly as he got the message. Lang's head tilted to the side for a few seconds before he began to howl again.

"So you know Franziska VonKarma!" He laughed, his teeth glinting. I rolled my eyes and nodded. He sobered again, turning to the large mass of uniformed officials behind him. "Alright, men! You're all doing a great job. Keep up the good work!" A sea of officials began chanting 'Shifu! Shifu!' which was _extremely_ annoying. I turned to check out the saloon (maybe I'd get lucky and find something...Saloon-worthy...) when I felt a pair of golden-brown eyes on my back.

"Listen up, '_Shifu_'. I only follow orders issued by Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth, and even then, I rarely follow them. As such, I can assure you that I have no intention of following _your_ orders whatsoever." I pushed open the saloon doors and walked in. I gritted my teeth as I heard him swing open the doors behind me. I whirled around, placing my hands on my hips. "Take a hint, Balto - beat it!" He glared at me and growled, his tone raising hairs on the back of my neck.

"Watch yourself, pup." I laughed, incredulously.

"Pup? What are you, some Wolverine wannabe? Dumb question... With that hair, it's obvious that you have serious hero worship issues. Lemme break it to you, 'bub' - you're not the only freak on a mission around here." I hissed, walking towards the door. He grabbed my arm as I passed him, holding it with an iron grip. I took my other hand and raked my fingernails on his arm, startling him. "You dogs are so dumb - when are you going to learn it's best to leave a cat alone!" I whispered angrily as I smashed his foot with my heel, making him drop my arm. I shoved the doors open, stalking across the wooden porch. "GUMSHOE!" He turned, his fear of my wrath obvious. "Tell Edgeworth I went to the hospital to check on Klavier. After that, I'm headed home." He nodded, relief at not being beaten evident on his face.

* * *

As I stalked out of the park, I was nearly run-over by a brunette in a pink newsboy cap and lab coat.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't see you there!" She cried, raising her pink-lensed glasses up to her forehead.

"Yeah, it's usually hard to see things up ahead if you're staring at the ground. What ARE you doing, anyway?" I asked, gesturing to the hand light and spray bottle she carried. Her eyes lit up in a somewhat creepy manner.

"I got this new science kit! You spray this chemical on the ground and then shine this light on it and then when you look at the ground with these glasses on you can see footprints! It's soo scientific and I absolutely LOVE science and forensics too, in fact I'm studying them overseas..." She continued to jabber as I walked away. I was waved at by the damn blue freak again as I entered the parking lot and got in my car. I sighed as I turned the key in the ignition and headed towards the hospital.

* * *

"Knock knock." I said, entering Klavier's private hotel room. Only a few visitors were allowed, and they had to be vetted by security before even going up to his floor.

"Anti-rabies precaution, " Des had said as he walked to the elevator with me. "We don't want any rabid fangirls getting to K."

"Hey, blondie. I got you something." I said, walking over to Klavier's hospital bed. He looked awful - his normally tanned skin was an ashy white colour. "Looks like someone's on painkillers." I murmured, brushing sweaty strands of blonde hair from his face. I kissed him softly on the cheek. He smiled weakly.

"Madchen..." He winced in pain. A little joke we shared - I was three years older than him, but, as he was a good five inches taller than me, he referred to me as 'little girl'.

"He's got pins in his shoulder." A smooth, quiet voice informed me. I turned to look at Daryan. "And his head's messed up - more than before, that is."

I nodded, "I talked to Seren. He said a stage light fell and knocked a speaker over...?" I said, taking a seat next to the navy-clad bassist. He nodded glumly.

"Yeah. We were in the middle of practice, so none of the fans were injured or anything, but it scared the shit out of us, seeing him pinned under that speaker. Thought he was a goner." I nodded again, sympathetic.

"Mara was hysterical when she called." I told him quietly, pulling the present I had brought for Klavier out of my bag.

"I... didn't mean... to scare anyone..." Klavier whispered.

"Shhh... It's okay, hon. You didn't scare anyone - The light falling scared them. Right, Dary?" I asked, nudging him.

"Yeah. We all saw it falling and we thought it was going to crush you, man. But it didn't. So it's all cool." Klavier nodded slowly.

"Here." I opened the box I had brought with me. "It's this cool new thing that turns anything into a spe... A stereo. Watch." I placed the little gizmo on the IV pole. Next I took out my iPod and plugged the transmitter into the headphone jack, turning the sound down. I turned it on, and music began playing. Daryan blinked at the IV pole, which was playing the song 'Thirteen Years Hard Time for Love'. He reached out and touched it, his eyes lighting up as he felt the vibrations.

"We need to strap five or six of those little things to Ray next time he gets drunk!" I shuddered at the thought of Raoul Adagio vibrating. "Oh, hey - speak of the devil - Ray! Des! Check out what Red brought!"

"Since when is she Red?" He asked, throwing himself into the seat next to me. He put his booted feet on Klavier's bed, smirking as I winced.

"Raoul... Leave her alone." Klavier said tiredly, his eyes scrunched up in pain.

"Hey, babe - do you want the nurse?" I asked, getting out of my chair to stand by the blonde crooner's side. I grabbed Raoul's feet and shoved them, straight-legged, back towards him, causing his chair to tilt. Klavier shook his head tiredly.

"I'm fine, Madchen... Just... Sore." He whispered, taking my hand and squeezing it once before letting it drop.

"Nice, Irish. You gonna break my head next?" Raoul complained as he straightened his chair.

"Shut up, Italian. I told off a freak from Zheng Fa today - I have no problem telling you off, either." I growled.

"Who'd you tell off from Zheng Fa?" Deston asked, still staring at the speaker/pole. As a guy who worked with and around Interpol agents when not rocking it out on stage, Des probably already knew the answer to the question.

"Shi-Long Lang. Freakish bastard's nearly as annoying as Roo."

Deston nodded, smirking at my assessment of the agent while Raoul ran his fingers through his hair, preening himself like the bird-brain he was.

"Oh, Give it up, Adagio - you'll always be the biggest freakish bastard in my book. You don't need to try to prove it any further."

He shrugged, unoffended. One thing I admired about Raoul Adagio was his ability to let things roll off his back. He was like a duck - awkward, annoying, loud, and rather vain, but waterproof. And he had probably been really cute as a baby, too, like a duckling. But, unfortunately for him, when his big duck feathers grew in, they grew in super ugly. Colossal ugly, in fact. And it didn't help that he insisted on bleaching his black hair and then dying it fire-engine red. Red hair, green eyes, and black leather - That was my corner of the fashion scene, thank you very much. He was such a tool.

I looked at my watch - 1:37. I turned towards the door. "I'm gunna head home, alright? Beating up Interpol's prize mutt tired me out." I kissed Klavier's cheek once again. "Love you K. You too, D's." Daryan and Deston waved, still studying the amplifier. Raoul cleared his throat.

"So much for Irish affection. You ain't got any love for me, girl?" He asked, eying me with a seductive look that would have driven his fans mad. I, on the other hand, fought the urge to kick him in the nuts.

"Raoul... There are times when I would personally like to end your existence. So, no - I don't love you. I rather can't stand you, to be honest." I walked from the room, smiling at the sound of teasing laughter. I made my way to the elevator, turning to the tall, skinny man who had already been there. "What floor do you want?" I asked, my finger poised above the floor buttons.

"Parking." He said, his voice oily. I pressed the button marked 'P'. He shifted, moving behind me.

"That's where I'm headed, too." I said, trying to make small talk. The elevator came to a stop and dinged.

"I know." He said, and I felt a damp cloth over my mouth and nose. As I fought his grip, the elevator started getting dimmer and dimmer until the world around me turned black.


	16. Chapter 16

Hey there fans! These next few chapters are going to be a little different. I'll let you figure out how and why on your own.

Yes, I know that the times are wonky - time is not my strong suit, okay? I'm trying.

Oh, yeah - I don't own Feenie... I don't own anyone in the games, basically.

But Mara, Natalie, Icarus and Mona are mine.

And Seren is Mara's - Er, Stormy's. Freudian Slip, there... :P

She also lays claim to Raoul and Deston.

Oh - And speaking of Stormy, check out her website. On it you'll find a story called "Maren", which was written as a celebration of '"Three Wrights and an Edgeworth" passing 15 chapters, and "Moving Shadows" passing 30.

And now, on to chapter 16!

* * *

-{Maralie Wright}-

I woke up suddenly, feeling sick. "Seren..." I whispered, nausea sweeping over me.

"What's up, angel?" He asked, looking me over, instantly awake.

"Something's wrong..." I shuddered. He sat up, reaching over to place his cool hand on my forehead.

"You don't have a fever, babe. Did you eat-" His question was interrupted by the trilling of a cell phone. He grabbed it off the bedside table, flipping it open in one quick motion. "Seren here - Oh, hey, Des. ... No, Natalie's not here - did you try her cell?... No, Deston, she's not here! Yeah, I'm sure... What do you mean, she's missing?" Seren stopped stroking my shoulders as he heard this. I looked up at him, my stomach clenching again. "Maybe she went to Edgeworth's office... You're sure she said she was going home?... Maybe she ran some errands first, Des... Oh. Did she say what was wrong?... She _what_?" I winced, both at the pain in my gut and at the tone of his voice.

"What happened?" I asked as he began rubbing my back - his long, cool fingers doing their best to calm me.

"Natalie got in a fight with an Interpol agent." He said, shock edging into his voice. I retched. He looked at me, alarmed. "Hang on, Des." He picked me up, bringing me to the bathroom. "Mara, are you alright?" He asked, running cool water in the sink, wetting a washcloth and placing it on the back of my neck.

"Talk to him." I said shakily. He went back to the bedroom and returned with the phone. He stroked my hair before turning on the speakerphone, and placed his cell on the counter.

"You're on speaker, Des." He said, rubbing my back. My stomach clenched again.

"Right. So, Natalie came up here to Klay's room about three hours ago, around 1:00. She stayed for about a half an hour, and then said she had to leave."

"Did she say she was going to go home?" Seren asked.

"Yeah. She said she was tired - had a rough morning. No wonder - she picked a fight with one of Interpol's Golden Boys, Shi-Long Lang."

"Did she say why?" I asked weakly, swallowing hard. Seren repeated my question, speaking louder so that the guys on the other end could hear the question. Raoul Adagio's voice suddenly came over the phone.

"Heard your girl the first time, Greenie. As for why she did it... She's Irish, duh. The Irish are always pickin' fights."

"Always picking fights with you, maybe. She doesn't fight with me." Daryan Crescend's smooth voice cut in on the conversation.

"Yeah, well, it's cause you're such a flaming suck-up." The Italian retorted hotly. As he continued, though, his voice sobered - something that doesn't happen often. "But... Maybe you're right - maybe she didn't fight for once. Maybe she got, you know... Grabbed." I gasped, my stomach lurching.

"Raoul... Shut up." Came Klavier's tired voice. He sounded like I felt - sick.

"Just because you're laid up doesn't mean you can order me around, Gavin. It _could _have happened, you know. That's probably why were couldn't reach her on her cell phone - she probably dropped it in a struggle or some-" I lost it there. Seren threw a towel over the phone to muffle the sound of my vomiting.

"Look - Des, why don't you go down to the parking garage? Take Ray with you. I'm sure an attendant there will have remembered her car." Seren said, removing the towel after I had finished being sick.

"Sounds like a plan, Seren. C'mon Ray, let's go test that theory of yours." The sound of two sets of footsteps and a door opening and closing announced their exit.

"Hey, Seren." Daryan's voice came over the phone again. "Can I talk to you, mano a mano? You know, without the speakerphone on?" Seren looked down at me. I nodded, resting my head against the coolness of the porcelain.

"Sure, D." Seren said, grabbing the phone and hitting the 'speaker off' button. A conversation occurred, but I don't remember what was said. My brain was shooting little electrodes of panic all over my body, making me shake. I felt Seren's hands touching me, stroking my clammy skin. I may have thrown up again - I don't remember. I do remember Seren's sharp intake of breath. It jerked me back to the present.

"What, Seren? Did an attendant remember seeing her car leave?" I asked, hope giving me a respite from the nausea. My heart fell when he shook his head.

"Des, call some people together. I'll do the same. Yeah. Bye." He clicked the phone shut, his face grim.

"Seren..." I whimpered, grabbing his hand. He stroked my cheek, wiping a tear away.

"Mara... Des and Ray found her phone on the floor of the parking garage, about four feet from the elevator. They also found her car." I cried out, a sob ripping from my soul. "Baby... We'll find her. I swear to you, Mara. We will find Natalie."

* * *

-{Phoenix Wright}-

"Wright and Company Law Offices- Oh. Hey, Bro. What's up?" Is it weird that I consider him my brother already? I finished giving the book shelf a half-hearted dusting. I had gone on a picnic today with Maya and Pearls - just like old times - but it had ended, and I returned to the office alone. I was trying to understand what Seren was saying, but he was talking faster than Maya on a sugar high. "Woah, Woah, Seren - calm down. What's this about Natalie, now?" I sat down hard in my desk chair as he told me about my little sister's disappearance. "What do you mean, she's been taken?... Okay... Yeah, Dad might have some connections. I'll call him, see if there's anything he can do. Thanks, Seren." I hit the 'end call' button and lowered the phone to my desk slowly. I was worried for my baby sisters. Sure, Natalie was missing - that's something I've never wanted to hear, especially since I had just recently gone through the experience of having a close friend kidnapped... And then she was locked in an ice cave... I paused, realizing that Maya was something of a trouble magnet. I shook my head, focusing on the situation at hand. I was worried about Natalie, but my concerns really lay with my other sister, Maralie.

_I remember when the twins were 10 years old. They had each received a week at sleep away camps - Maralie at a science camp, and Natalie at a camp for 'Junior Detectives'. They were really excited to spend a week away from home. I can remember riding with dad when he dropped them off - they threw themselves from the van with reckless abandon, thrilled at the prospect of being 'grown-up'. That night, though, a pair of phone calls came - The first saying that Natalie had been rough housing (as usual) and had somehow managed to hurt her wrist. Badly. The second call came seconds after the first. When I answered it (dad was starting the car) I heard my little sister screaming, "I need to go to Nay-Nay! Please! I need to be with her!__** I need her! I need my sister! I NEED HER!**__" I tried to calm her down, but she was despondent. In the end, I had to take the phone out to my father so he could assure her that he would take her to Natalie. _

_ When we got to the Junior Detective camp, Natalie's wrist was in a splint, and her skin was a pale white. Dad helped her to the car and told her that he was taking her to the hospital. "No, Daddy. Get Mallie." She whispered, her little face filled with anxiety. "Mallie needs me." So dad drove to the science camp, asking Natalie how her wrist felt every two miles or so. "It's fine Daddy. Get Mallie." She answered quietly, every time, without fail. When we pulled into the parking lot, a ghostly looking red-head was sitting on a bench, her green eyes swimming in tears, her screaming reduced to shuddering sobs. She saw the van and shot towards it. Natalie saw her, and, dispite her broken wrist, flew out of the door and caught her. Cries of "Mallie" and "Nay-Nay" filled the air as they held each other, Natalie lovingly wiping Maralie's tears as Mara's hand stroked Natalie's wrist. They were quiet during the ride to the hospital, Natalie's good arm wrapped around her sister protectively, while Mara's hand would reach out and brush a hair from Natalie's face, or stroke her cheek. _

For the rest of the summer, they refused to leave the other's side. They slept in the same bed, their fingers wrapped in each other's hair. At first, Mom and Dad tried to encourage them into independence (which was the reason why they were sent to different summer camps in the first place) but it soon became obvious that they honestly couldn't be apart. When Mara's tonsils needed to be taken out, Natalie screamed like an Irish Banshee. The doctors finally decided that they might as well remove hers, too. And when Natalie developed appendicitis, Mara was right next to her, having an appendectomy as well. It was strange, how they relied on each other. Even after they graduated from college, they had no desire to be apart. When Natalie began dating Zane, Mara was a part of everything. When Seren would send tickets to one of their concerts, he always sent two - Mara wouldn't come without her sister. And Zane's death? I shuddered at the memories of it.

So, now, with Natalie missing, Mara was inevitably showing her 'true colours' - she'd probably be having anxiety attacks, terrors, and a whole slew of other nasty stuff. And the worst of it is that the only one who could ever calm her was Natalie. I winced in sympathy for Seren - he had a big job ahead of him. I picked up the phone and dialled my father's number.

* * *

-{Icarus and Ramona Wright}-

We were out in the garden when Phoenix's call came. I left Mona sitting on the bench to answer the phone. When he told me that Natalie may have been kidnapped, I thought my heart would give out. I thanked him and hung up the phone, tears running down my cheek. My little girl had gone through so much already... And now this? I opened the desk drawer, pulling out my personal notebook. It was filled with IOUs from many, many people. I kept record of them all, in case I needed them for a rainy day. The sky outdoors may have been a beautiful blue, but I was more downcast than I had ever been. I dialled first one number, and then another - calling in favors left and right. The FBI? Check. I even called a few of my old drinking buddies - the best at what they did, back in the day. I called Mona's brother, Kyle Hyde Jr. His wife Nancy answered, saying that he had already heard about it and was on his way to LA ask we spoke. I smiled at that. Kyle was Natalie's favourite uncle - he was one of the reasons she wanted to be a detective. When she graduated from the Academy, he was the first one to congratulate her. It made sense that'd he'd be high on my kids' lists of people to call. I looked out the window at my wife. I wrestled with myself, wishing she were the way she had been when Misty and Greg were still around.

_The day Gregory Edgeworth died started a process in my wife. She began to stare at nothing, her eyes unfocused. She would walk about the house aimlessly, often stopping to pick up one of the girls and rock her in her arms. Then Misty disappeared. My beautiful, loving, happy wife became a ghost of herself, snapping at Phoenix and I and caring erratically for the girls. One minute she would be singing and playing with them, while the next minute she would stand up and leave, yelling at them angrily. She went from one mood to the next without warning._

_ One of the most memorable examples of her emotional instability occurred one morning about two years after Misty's disappearance, when Mona was curling her hair. Both of the girls loved Ramona's long, golden red hair that cascaded down her back. She had just let them brush it, her eyes closing with the simple pleasure of being with her girls. "I'm going to curl it now, alright? Be careful not to touch the iron - it's hot." She said, taking the hot iron and wrapping a section of hair around it. She let it loose after a few seconds, a tight curl bouncing up as she did. Little Mara reached out and tugged it gently, giggling as it bounced. Mona grabbed her hand, shouting at her. "I said not to touch anything! You stupid, disobedient little girl!" And, before I could stop her, Mona pressed the hot curling iron into Mara's little palm. The smell of burning skin filled the air, and Natalie screamed as Mona held her sister's hand on the hot metal. I grabbed my wife by the shoulder and pulled her from our daughters, shoving her away. Both of the girls ran to the closet, burrowing among the clothing. "Mara, let Daddy see your hand." I coaxed, but to no avail. I could hear a pair of muffled voices, discussing something. Finally Natalie's little voice piped up. "Mallie is scared that Mommy will hurt Nay-Nay witha hot ouchie stick next. Mallie doesn't want Nay-Nay's hand to be hurted, so Mallie says we stay in here, thank you. But Nay-Nay doesn't want Mallie's hand to ouch anymore, so she tells Mallie to let Daddy see her hand, while the rest of her keeps staying inna closet. Izzat 'ceptable?" Mara's tiny hand was thrust out of the clothes by her concerned twin. "Fixit, Daddy. Make Mallie's ouchie go 'way." Natalie pleaded. _

After I took Mara to the burn center, I had a terrible decision to make - My wife was a danger to our children, and she needed help. So I packed her a suitcase and explained to her, as gently as I could, that she was going on vacation. But she was herself again by then, and she knew what I meant. She knew that she had hurt Maralie - she was genuinely horrified when I brought her home, her hand bandaged, with the knowledge that Mara's hand would always have a scar. She wailed as I had called Kyle and Nancy, asking them to come and watch Phoenix and the twins. I led her to the van, telling her that I still loved her, and the kids and I would visit her often. That day was one of the hardest days of my life.

She came home after a two year period. She never hurt the girls again, but her anger and pain had never left her, either. I still wonder if I did the right thing that day. I looked out at her once again, a tear rolling down my cheek as I watched her, looking at a rosebush, her mouth moving. She was talking to Misty again. Did she not realize that Misty was no longer there? Did she not understand that she was sitting out there alone? I blinked. Was Natalie alone right now? Did she know what was going on around her? And Mara - Little Mara. I picked up the phone to call her. She would be inconsolable without her sister, but, as her father, I would try to give her what comfort I could.

* * *

Next chapter - Miles!

Dun dun dun dun..!


	17. Chapter 17

-{Miles Edgeworth}-

It had been a long three days, filled with more bodies than I cared to count. I sat in my recliner, thinking. Well, fuming, rather. The soft brilliance of Beethoven was playing in the background, and I had built a fire in the fireplace. I stared into the flames, considering the last 24 hours. In the midst of attempting to reassure Kay Faraday that I would help her attempt to catch this "False Yatagarasu" that had made an announcement of their attempt to burglarize the Cohodopian and Babahalese embassies, my phone had begun to ring. I answered it, only to discover that Phoenix Wright was on the other end of the phone. He proceeded to tell me that Natalie was missing - possibly kidnapped. This, as the fictional detective Sherlock Holmes would put it, is 'a three cup problem'. I was just now able to sit down and breathe after a whirlwind of murderous activity had surrounded me upon my return to the United States from a month long sojourn in Borginia. I walked to the kitchen, pouring myself a fresh cup of tea. I looked down at the cup in my hand and realized it was the one that she had given me for Christmas - It was a beautiful thing, a deep, warm red rim running into the crisp, pure black bowl. Tooled around the cup was a golden Lung - a Chinese dragon. It's paws, which clutched the stereotypical pearl of luck, made up the small handle.

It had been a surprising acquisition - I hadn't expected her to give me anything. When she handed me the package, it was with the same zealous elegance that filled everything she did, whether it was filling out paperwork or arresting a felon. "Don't drop it, alright? I'm not getting you another one." She had said, sliding the box onto the desk.

I smiled slightly, remembering her audacity. She had hung mistletoe over the security desk, hoping that she could catch Gumshoe under it with Maggey Byrd. Her plan had backfired miserably, of course, as one of the other prosecutors had seen it and removed it before Maggey's shift. She had pouted for a few moments before flouncing off, already planning something new.

She would often sabotage the snack machines - crossing wires, connecting the 'A' to 'C' , '5' to '9', and so on. The coffeemaker was her Holy Grail, however. She would add things to the grounds, giggling insanely as she anticipated the disgusted splutterings of some unwitting victim.

She had even gotten others in on her more elabourate pranks - her willing co-conspirators often being my sister Maya, and her own sister, Maralie. One day, the three of them somehow managed to remove the hinge pins on _all_ of the defense _and_ prosecution lobby doors. They loosened the screws of our podiums, causing them to fling and scatter our court records when we slammed them in objection. They wreaked havoc in many offices - hiding things, switching office numbers, refiling bookshelves... Nothing was safe.

Pesu barked, pulling me from my thoughts. I opened the door to let him in the house. He ran over to the phone and sat, looking up at me, whining pitifully. The dog had formed a powerful bond with Detective Wright from the very first moment. Perhaps he could sense that she had something to do with his master's melancholy? I walked to him, ruffing his honey coloured fur softly as I recalled his and Natalie's first meeting.

_The first time Natalie had met Pesu was after a rather formal luncheon banquet. She had been wearing a rather expensive-looking dress (as opposed to her usual t-shirt causalities). When the banquet had finished, she asked if I would mind dropping her at her home on my way to the office. I told her I would, if she wouldn't mind that we would have stop by my home to let my dog out first. She had agreed happily, saying she had always wanted to meet my 'other partner'. When I let him out into the yard he ran at her, barking loudly. She dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing as he licked her excitedly. "Oh, I like him!" She cried as he wiggled around in her lap._ _I had expressed some concern for her dress, worried that he would ruin it. She laughed again, saying, "The cost of dry-cleaning is nothing compared to meeting a new friend, Edgeworth. He's such a good dog! What does his name mean?" I informed her that I wasn't quite sure. Several days later, she came to my office, tossing a hand-written paper on the desk. "His name may mean 'Little One', 'Condolences', 'Washing', 'Speak up,' or 'Weight'. Personally, I prefer the thought of him being called 'Little One', but I suppose it's totally up to you... Have you considered training him to do police work?" And, with that, Natalie had begun working with him daily - teaching him to search, identify illegal substances, and chase down people she (or I) commanded him to attack. He was a quick study, surprising us both with his abilities. He would do anything she asked of him - pushing himself, going beyond what most of the other police dogs would. In time, the precinct offered her the option of taking over Missile's training, something that would have provided her with a large bonus to her detective's salary. She declined, saying that she was content with her 'Little One'._

He whimpered, his head sagging as if he had just received a form of discipline. He nudged the side table with his nose. "What is it, Pesu? Something on the...phone...?" The light on the answering machine was blinking red, meaning there was at least one message. I pressed the replay button, placing my hand on Pesu's head.

_"March 13, 2019, 12:32 PM_

_Hey, Edgeworth... It's Natalie. Umm... Damn. *sighs* I better get this over with. It'll be easier for both of us if I do it over the phone. *sighs again* Look, your comment this morning... It hurt. A lot. A lot more than it should have. And... I... I realized that... *deep breath* I came to a realization on the way to Gatewater. You see, over the past few months... I've come to respect you. You're a wonderful prosecutor. You're intuitive, intelligent... and I love that about you. God, there's so much about you that I love. And that... That scares the hell outta me. I... Miles, I swore to myself that I would never, ever, EVER allow myself to feel that way again. It hurts too much, Miles. And... And knowing that you'll never feel the same way about me... That makes it hurt SO much worse. *Sniffling* When I first met you, I was only supposed to be your temporary assistant. That was back in May... A year ago. *clears throat* I... Gumshoe's been working with you again for some time now, so... I think it's past time that I return to my original duties... Because it's not... Appropriate... for me to have these feelings towards you. *clears throat again* Bye, Little One. You're such a good boy. You will always be my sweet little Shibaby. *long pause* Goodbye, Mr. Edgeworth. *phone hangs up*"_

I stood there, frozen, my body feeling like it was made of lead. Pesu whined again, pushing his nose against my hand. "Shh... Pesu. We'll find her, alright?" I picked up the phone and stared at it before dialing the number of the cell phone I had given my sister Maya.

"Maya?... Okay. I wasn't sure if he had... May-... MAYA! Calm down. I'm going down to the precinct headquarters with Pesu. He knows her better than the rest of the search dog-... Shhh.. It's alright, Maya... Are you in Kurai-?... Ah. Well, I'll pick you up-... You and Diego, then. Correct. I'll be there."

I went over to the closet, pulling Pesu's halter and lead from it. "Come." I commanded, clicking my tongue once. He stood, walking over to me and sitting at my feet. I slipped the straps around his legs, clipping the leash to the ring on the collar. "We're going to go look for Natalie."

* * *

-{Maya Fey}-

I stared out the window of the apartment, watching the cars, trucks, and other vehicles on the street below. They all seemed to fly past - was she in one of those cars? Was she being taken to some secret place, just like I had been? I felt a hand tighten around my own. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. Coffee, musk - and sickness. "Tell me, kitten." Diego whispered, bringing my hand up to his lips.

"I...I can't help reliving it." He nodded, kissing my wrist, his unshaven whiskers tickling my skin. "I know what it's like, to be taken by some stranger. To be... You know... Kidnapped. It was terrible. I thought... Well, I trusted that Phoenix would find me and all, but... Part of me was afraid I'd never be found. And then, when he said he was a killer?" I shuddered as memories of that incident, as well as many others, suddenly filled my mind. After being kidnapped, I ended up being locked in a frozen room with the angry spirit of my cousin, Dahlia Hawthorne, out to get me. I didn't know what to do, so I channel my sister and asked her for help. She told me to channel Dahlia, so I did - It was scary, though. I mean, if she had discovered that I was the vessel..? She would have committed suicide, and I wouldn't be able to stop her! As if that wasn't enough, I also discovered that my mother wasn't missing anymore - she was there in Hazakura - Only, by the time I had learned that she was my mom, Diego had already killed her. Of course, she had been channel Dahlia at the time... Anyway, a few months ago I found out that she had another child between Mia and I - and that his name was Miles Edgeworth. Nick's friend was actually my older brother! Of course, now that I'm the official Master of the Kurain technique, (Why the master, anyway? Master is a guy - Mistress is a girl. Shouldn't I be called the Mistress of the Kurain technique? Or does that sound too... Adulterous?) I don't get to spend much time with any of my friends. I'm too busy being in charge of Kurain and the Fey family. But last week I took my first break. Diego had surprised me with a call from the Detention center, telling me that he was free to go. I had tried to visit him as often as I could, hoping that my presence there would help him not be so... Depressed, I guess. Anyway, The day after that, he told me why he had been released - the doctors said his body was running down - for good, this time. "But I really don't wanna think about the past, Diego. I mean, I'm here. Phoenix and Miles found me - they'll find Natalie, too." I finished, watching as he massaged the bridge of his nose. He blinked, his eyes milky white, and twitched at the sound of a car horn in the street below. "Are you okay, tiger?" I asked, brushing his messy hair from his warm forehead. He had a constant fever these days, and he couldn't see anything - even with his clunky mask thing. He was always tired. Today had actually been a good day - he had gotten out of our bed and taken a shower. But when the clock chimed at noon, I walked out of the office to make him lunch and found him sprawled on the couch, a cup of coffee on the floor.

"Never thought I'd miss that damn thing on my face." I squeezed his hand. "I wish I could see you, Maya." He whispered fiercely, pulling me into his lap. I took his hand and brought it to my cheek, rubbing against it. He ran his fingers through my hair. "Kitten... it'll be okay."

"You say that, but... Diego, I can't lose you. I can't lose anyone else. I'll fall apart, Diego. I'll fall apart without you to hold me together." He began kissing my face, eventually finding my lips. He murmured my name and tangled his hands in my hair. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around his neck, snaking my fingers in his white hair. His kiss was like a cup of hot coffee - so intense and warm that it made me feel all tingly inside, with each second more rich and intoxicating than the one before it... But with each breath came a dark bitterness, too - We wouldn't have this for much longer.

He felt the tears running down my cheeks. He kissed them away, and his next kiss tasted like salt - like it had several nights ago... He pulled away as a series of deep coughs rattled his body.

"It'll be okay." He repeated, pressing his forehead to mine before kissing it softly. "I promise." I pressed my ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat, determined to memorize the sound. My mind wandered to the first time Natalie and Mara had come to Kurain - The day that I caught a glimpse of the real Natalie Wright.

*'*

It was a cool day in October, just after the leaves had finished falling. The acolytes had finished the daily chores (Or had found a way to get out of them) and were now meditating or doing some other quiet activity. Suddenly, a truck drove up to the main gate. Out climbed Natalie and Maralie Wright, their red hair making it look like their heads were on , given the cold, sounded like an inviting concept. Sitting in front of a fire, I mean - not starting their heads on fire. That'd just be stupid.

_"Hiya, Maya!"_ Natalie had said with a laugh._ "Mar and I brought some pumpkins. Larry, and Edgeworth are coming on the train - they may have my brainless zombie of a brother with them. If they can get the moron out of the house, that is. You wanna help us with these?" _She motioned to the back of her sister's truck as she tossed her the keys. Mara caught them and shoved them in her pocket before grabbing a pumpkin.

_"Where's your car, Nat?" _I asked. Natalie had purchased a new Corvette when her Beetle's brakes had failed and smashed into a telephone pole last month. Oddly, all she got from being in the accident was a nasty lump on her forehead. But the Beetle had been totalled.

_ "Left 'im at home. We needed something big and ugly to cart all this junk." _Mara thumped Natalie on the back of the head.

_"Don't call my truck ugly, doofball. I'll make you walk home." _She said, placing the pumpkin she was carrying on the steps of the main house. _"This is a really.. Interesting place, Maya. Mr. Edgeworth told me about the "no men" thing. Isn't that a pain? I couldn't imagine living somewhere without Seren. Well, I mean, I live without him, but, when he's here in LA-"_ Natalie trudged over with an armload of pumpkin.

_"The only bad thing about 'no guys' is that there's nobody else to help carry all these friggin' pumpkins..." _Natalie had muttered as she plopped two of the orange gourds on the ground. Mara stuck her tongue out at her sister, who responded in kind. Soon the three of us were laughing ourselves sore, trying to outdo each other's crazy expressions.

After we finished unloading the last of the pumpkins, we heard three voices coming from outside the front gate.

_"I told you, Nick - he's jealous!"_

_ "Why on Earth would Edgeworth be jealous of you, Larry?"_ Phoenix asked, his voice tired and quiet.

_ "Because my girl is so fiiinnne~! I mean, come on, is that not the most lusciously adorable woman you have ever seen? AOWWWWW!" _The sound of Larry's howling echoed loudly.

_ "...Larry, your usual annoying character flaws notwithstanding, do that again and I'll have you arrested." _We smirked as my brother made his usual (empty) threat to Larry yet again.

_ "Aww, Edgey~! C'mon, isn't she just so... So..." _He paused, looking for the right word. Natalie waltzed over and grabbed the photograph from his hand.

_"Augh! Larry!...What's that thing growing from her neck?" _She asked, horrified. Larry yanked the picture back from her.

_"What? Where? What's growing from her neck?" _She pointed to the photo.

_"That thing, right there! AHH! You have one, too! It's probably contagious!" _She crossed her fingers into an 'X' and held them out in front of her as Larry felt at his throat.

_"She's talking about your face, Larry." _Phoenix told him wearily. Larry slumped as Natalie glared daggers at her brother.

_"I don't care what you say - You're just jealous, like Edgey." _

_"I'm not jealous!" _They said, surprising themselves. She turned and looked at her brother who was standing off to the side, distracted. Her eyes narrowed. _"Thanks for ruining the joke, brother dear. But I suppose I should be glad that you actually showed up at all, hmmm? Tell me: Did they have to drag you out of the house, or did you come willingly?" _He just stood, staring at the main hall. I turned to see what he was looking at.

_ "I'm not in the mood, Natalie." _He said, scuffing the toe of his shoe in the dirt. Natalie snorted.

_ "Wow. When did you get a lobotomy, Dr. Monotone? I've seen more cheerful people in a morgue."_ He rolled his eyes. _"No, seriously - I actually HAVE seen happier people in the morgue. And they were dead." _He muttered something under his breath. Mara came over and rested her hand on his arm.

_"Look, Fee - It's okay if you don't see Iris every day. She wants you to keep living your life outside of her."_

_ "But... I don't have a life outside of her, Maralie." _At which point Natalie began to choke. Mara and I ran over to her, patting her back.

_"I'm fine, guys! I just... I never realized how much of a complete waste of space my brother has become. 'I don't have a life outside of her'? Why don't you just admit that you don't have a life AT ALL, Phoenix? You sit and mope around until you can get to the detention center, and then you sit and mope around when you have to leave! You don't go to work, you don't eat, and when you talk, it's in monosyllabic phrasology! You disgust me, you know? You really do. You're...GAHH!" _She threw her hands up in the air before turning to me, her face a mask of livid disgust. Her long sleeves had bunched up around her elbows, exposing the ragged scars on her wrists. She followed my gaze and stopped cold as she realized what I was staring at. Her voice suddenly became extremely formal, without any hint of emotion. _"I'm sorry, Maya, but I suddenly find myself not feeling very... Festive." _She glared at her brother as she tugged her sleeves down violently._ "I'm going to go... Train leaves in ten minutes, right?" _She asked. I nodded mutely, shell-shocked by her sudden outburst of anger. She smiled bitterly before turning on her heel and walking towards the little road to the station. Both Miles and Maralie sighed.

_"She's going to start something again... You realize that, don't you?" _Miles stated in a 'matter-of-fact' voice. She nodded, her voice weary.

_"Seems like we won't be carving pumpkins today, Maya."_ She said, her smile apologetic. She turned and cupped her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice. _"Natalie! You might as well get in the truck." _She waved as she walked to the vehicle._ "Why do you do this, Nat? You promised you wouldn't cause an issue!" _She asked as she opened the door of the truck.

_"Maybe I forgot. Or maybe I just don't care. Or maybe, I forgot to care. Either way, I'm feeling entirely too apathetic at the moment to provide this incident with the proper amount of damn it deserves. So, frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." _Natalie's sarcastic retort was delivered in a voice full of emotion - but what the emotion was, I wasn't sure. I turned to my older brother, a question on the tip of my tongue.

_"Don't even think about it, Maya. Detective Wright is fully capable of telling you what she feels is necessary for your survival. If she wants you to understand, she'll explain it to you at some point." _He gestured to the pumpkins._ "Now - Where do you want these?"_

*'*

I awoke suddenly as I felt a change in Diego's breathing. I peeked up at his face, noticing his eyes were closed once again. I climbed out of his arms and walked to the kitchen. A note had been stuck to the refrigerator door. My brother's fancy handwriting was actually easier to read than my own, so I had no problem reading the message.

_"Maya - I stopped by to pick you up, but didn't have the heart to wake either of you from your rest. If you need me, I'll be down at the precinct, helping with the search effort._

_ ~ Miles Edgeworth"_

Which, when translated from Edgeworth-ese to English, means:

"_Maya - I came in and saw you sleeping on the couch with Diego and felt uncomfortable, so I left. I'm madly in love with Natalie and I'm so worried about her that I can't even write her name, because doing so would probably cause me to break down in tears. I will do everything in my power to find her, more than likely going several days without sleep. I'm going to need someone to remind me to eat, and by the time Natalie is found, I may be in an asylum from all of the stress and anxiety I will put myself through. However, I'm going to sign my full name, so I can still maintain the illusion of being in control of my emotions, when I'm really raging inside like a Vulcan during Pon Farr, or an android with a malfunctioning Emotion chip." _(He totally is, too - When I told Nick that the first time, he didn't believe me. So I had him Google "Pon Farr" and "Data's Emotion Chip". Now he agrees whole-heartedly with my assessment.)

Sometimes I wonder when he's going to just admit he likes her and move on. Maybe now he will... Maybe he'll tell her when he finds her. Because I know he's going to find her. He needs her too much not to.


	18. Chapter 18

Don't own Edgeworth, Nick, Larry, Pearl, Maya, Diego, Franzie, Gumshoe, Maggey, Klavier, or Daryan.

I DO own Mara, Natalie, Uncle Kyle, and _the man_.

I don't own Deston or Raoul. Stormy does. She also owns Seren, but is sweet enough to share him with Maralie. On top of that, she also beta'd the chapter. As such, she gets a cameo as CSI Ada Storms.

Shout outs to Lunae, Notorious and Pearls!

**Umm... Pretty dark chapter again, boys and girls. Oh, yeah - Natalie's fate rests in your hands. In other words...**

**Review and she lives. Review well and she recovers. **

**I'm also having a "Name the Bad Guy" contest. I was thinking of naming him Alfred Bates, but I want to hear you guys' opinions and ideas. Winner gets a shout-out and a cameo!  
**

Oh, and check out "The-Sisters-Wright" on Deviantart when you get the chance.**  
**

* * *

The precinct had become a zoo. Everyone had stopped what they were doing in order to aid the 'Natalie Rescue' effort. The Gavineers (minus Klavier, of course, as his pain meds made him even less lucid than usual) were giving almost constant interviews about the search, as well as using their status as a band to get people involved. Of course, there were times when at least one of the boys was absent from the televised events - they were all taking turns watching Mara to make sure she didn't have a nervous break-down or forget to take care of herself. The same could be said about Franziska VonKarma - although, rather than reason with her "little brother", she just whipped Miles until he promised to take a break.

Detective Gumshoe lost five pounds from all the running around he was made to do, and poor Maggey Byrde was so exhausted from answering the hot lines that she fell asleep on the floor of the Operations centre. Kay was working with Mara (when she wasn't having panic attacks), using Little Thief to create a small 3D map of the city in order to plan further searches.

Maya and Pearl passed out coffee and donuts while Diego passed out on one of the couches in the lobby. Larry Butz had been stationed in front of a wall of monitors, each one playing security footage. His duty was to yell if he saw something interesting. Being Larry, he had yelled each time he saw a woman, so he was now sitting silently in the chair, vainly attempting to untie the gag that Miles had placed around his mouth ten hours ago.

Phoenix and his Uncle Kyle had been going through Natalie's case files to see if there were any names that stood out, possibly connected to the Castella family. They hadn't found a thing, so Mara had asked her partner, Ada Storms, to run to the twins' house to get Natalie's journals. After skimming through those (the content was enough to make Phoenix want to wash his eyes and brain of the images it evoked) they had yet to develop any theories.

After five solid days of sheer madness, people began to give up hope. After nine days, those who hadn't given up hope were asked to find a new location for the search headquarters. The general consensus was that the Wright & Co. Law Offices was the best location, seeing as how Phoenix wasn't really doing much defending lately. So three more days were spent searching, waiting, and hoping for news.

On Day 13, the phone rang. An older woman was on the other end.

"I got home from visiting my grandchildren in Washington yesterday, and I noticed that there was a truck sitting in front of the old Wescot Manufacturing place. I didn't think anything of it until I looked out my window this morning - it's still there. And there's grass grown up around the sides, too, like it's been there for a while. All I know is that it wasn't there when I left for Seattle two weeks ago, and that's a fact."

She gave her name and address before hanging up. When the CSI vans arrived, (their passengers being Maralie, Seren, Deston, Raoul, and Daryan in one van and Miles, Gumshoe, and four other CSIs in the second.) she offered them tea (which Miles rejected, to everyone's surprise) and pointed to the truck.

She cleared her throat. "A word of warning before you go in - it's an old building. Been empty since... Why, it must be 30 years now. It's a dangerous place for anyone to be in. Do be careful."

* * *

The first order of business was to clear the scene. Of course, The Gavineers, being law enforcement officials in their own right, decided one of them should have the honour. Once Deston had found an unlocked door, he opened it. He grunted, slammed the door shut and turned around, running back to the van.

"We've got a problem." He said quietly, so as not to alarm Mara any further. She silently handed him a sterile mask and a tube of Vicks.

"Rub it under your nose. It'll keep the smell from getting to you. Don't use the mask unless you have to, though - it fogs up and makes it impossible to see anything." He nodded, rubbing the menthol-scented ointment under his nostrils.

"Thanks, Mara." She nodded as he walked over to the other van and knocked on the window. "Let's go, guys. Door's open."

"I'll, umm... I'll watch the van, Sir." Gumshoe offered, squirming slightly. Edgeworth sighed.

"Do you feel it absolutely necessary, Detective?" Gumshoe nodded enthusiastically, reminding Miles of the bobble-headed Mad Hatter doll Natalie kept on her desk. "Then I won't stop you." He replied wearily.

He opened the door and climbed out of the van, the unfamiliar bulge of his new shoulder holster causing him to feel as if he constantly needed to straighten his jacket. He fought the urge to do so now as Deston Cavatin began to explain the plan.

"Okay, so, according to the blueprints we have, there's the main floor," he tapped a spot on the map he held in his hand. "And there's also a partial second floor, where the overseers had their offices. Ray, you and Daryan take two of the CSIs and search up there." He pointed to the upper level. "The stairway is immediately left of the employee entrance. There's—" He stopped when Mara walked up to the group.

"Buncha stiffs? Yeah, kinda smelt 'em." Raoul waved a hand impatiently turning on the waiting officers. "Right. You, and you, come with me. Daryan - get a lighter and a syringe—"

"Mr. Adagio, don't even THINK about doing anything to those bodies until the Medical Examiner arrives." Miles warned, staring the red-head down.

"Simmer down, man. I wasn't going to do anything to 'em." Raoul looked annoyed, already stressed over Natalie's predicament. "Loosen up those frills."

"Perhaps we could gag you with them," Edgeworth said absentmindedly walking away.

"...We need to find the Irish soon." He muttered as he stalked off toward the entrance. "It's just not right that he's startin' to use her retorts."

Deston cleared his throat. "Edgeworth," he called. "We're with these two." He gestured to Mara and Seren. "You guys," he pointed to the remaining CSIs. "Perimeter." They nodded and began to unpack their cameras while Deston turned to the prosecutor again. "You sure you wanna do this, Edgeworth? It's.. not..."

"I'm fully aware of what I am about to encounter, Mr. Cavatin. I have been present at many autopsies - I've even assisted in several of them."

Deston nodded, as if the knowledge didn't surprise him much. "Shall we begin, then?"

* * *

The smell of death is unforgettable. It's designed to be that way, in fact. The molecular structure of the two most offensive scents –Putrescine and Cadaverine - actually contains microscopic barbs that attach themselves to one's nasal hairs.

CSIs and others who work with death have learned ways to mask these smells, but everything they do is just that - a mask. One will always smell a slight stench of decay, no matter how much wintergreen or menthol is used. Perhaps our brains are wired to always find that scent - just as our ears will almost always welcome the sound of a human voice after a period of silence.

She was experiencing both... Or so she thought. She wasn't sure of anything anymore. She had experienced the negative effects of many different drugs before, but this... This was awful. For all she knew, she was dead, and this was Hell. She shifted, moaning weakly as fire shot through her body. She pressed her hand to her side, feeling the warm, sticky blood pooling around her fingers.

She stared at the various articles of clothing he had displayed about the room - all of them familiar... All of them covered in blood. A ripped black leather jacket... A yellow pullover with bloody stab marks... A plum button-up with a blood-soaked collar ... A slashed navy blue blazer... And the most terrible, heartwrenching 'trophy' in his collection: A maroon suit coat full of ragged bullet holes.

He had waved each article of clothing in front of her, like a matador waving a red flag in front of a bull. Each time, she had clenched down on her anger - her hatred - for him...

And then, last night, he had touched her.

She had lashed out, coming at him with a piece of sharpened metal she had been cutting with. She stabbed at him wildly; a feral scream of anguish, hatred, and loss tore through the silent warehouse. He grabbed her wrist, pushing her against the wall. He took the make-shift knife from her and turned, about to throw it out of her reach. She lunged at him again, her hand wrapping around his throat. He twisted, surprised at her attack, the sharpened metal weapon he held in his hand catching her in the side.

She choked, her hand falling from his throat. Her eyes widened and she pressed her hands to the wound, falling to her knees in shock. Her body curled itself into a fetal position. He dropped the knife, his eyes full of madness. He looked at the hand that had held her wrist, gazing at the blood.

"The Queen is Dead... Long Live the Queen..."

He had mourned, licking her blood from the palm of his hand. Now, he was gone - but she wasn't alone. She heard voices coming from... Somewhere. Her mind?

She was so tired... She moved her hands, but the pain worsened without the pressure. She whimpered, hating herself for her weakness. She gritted her teeth, placing her hands on the floor and attempted to ease herself into a semi-sitting position. The pain was unbearable, causing her to cry out softly.

She managed to sit up, however - the effort caused the wound to begin bleeding anew. She closed her eyes, letting the pain flow over and around her. A single tear trickled down her cheek, followed by another. Soon, she was sobbing silently. He had promised to 'save her from the world' and said he lived his life for her and her alone. The next day was when he came in with a homeless woman. He had given the woman a sandwich, watching her closely as she ate it ravenously. When the woman had finished eating, he slit her throat, the arterial spray hitting Her in the face and chest. She gasped, shocked at what he had done.

The he next day, he did it again with a homeless man. Then another woman... After that, he began to bring her a daily 'souvenir' from his victims- A stylized 'G' pendant. A little silver hoop earring. A red tie. But the absolute worst came two nights before last... The wrinkled length of white silk. She brought the cravat to her face and began to sob in earnest, her cries cut short as she tried to catch her breath and failed. She rubbed her wrist across her eyes, wiping them, the sting of the salty tears on the fresh cuts like a salve for her irrevocably broken heart.

_Miles..._

* * *

"Do you hear that?" Edgeworth asked, spooking his companions. Without waiting for a reply, he took off towards the back of the building.

"Prosecutor Edgeworth! The rest of the factory hasn't been cleared yet!" Deston called, throwing his hands in the air as the silver-haired man disappeared behind a row of heavy machines. "He's worse than Ray." He muttered, turning around as he heard a sharp intake of breath. Maralie had wrapped her arms herself, her eyes wide and shining with unshed tears.

"She's here..." She said in a whispering monotone. Her focus was off, looking at everything and nothing. "...But not completely." Seren wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly as she began to cry. "I need to find her. I need her, Seren. I need my sister!"

She began to hyperventilate, her chest heaving. Seren shifted his arms around her and picked her up before she sunk to the floor. He turned and walked her out to one of the vans, where he wrapped a blanket around her shaking body.

"It's okay, Mara... Angel, I'm here. It's okay - go ahead and cry." He sat with her, rubbing her back as she wept into his chest.

"She's been broken, Seren. I can feel it - she's missing something. Something that she needs to be herself. It's gone - she's gone! Seren, she's gone!"

She sobbed, clutching his deep emerald shirt. He held her his eyes closed as if he couldn't face the realization that he was unable to stop her pain.

* * *

Edgeworth had been to many crime scenes during his life. Though each location was different, they all had several things in common. The most noticeable factor was the overall feeling of despair one felt as soon as they entered, he decided.

He continued down the little hall to the storage area, where he stopped, frozen. He took a few more steps and felt the blood drain from his face. He could see a shoe poking out from behind a stack of storage drums. And it was a very familiar shoe...

He walked towards it slowly, dreading what he might find. He nearly fell to his knees at the sight in front of him: She was there, lying on the floor. Her clothing - as well as the floor around her - was soaked with blood. He tried to call out, but he found that he had no voice. He walked to her side, crouching down next to her.

"Natalie." He said, his voice husky with emotion. "Natalie!"

He whirled towards the entrance. "DESTON! GET THE PARAMEDICS! SHE'S NOT BREATHING!"

He leaned in to perform CPR, but stopped when he saw the wound - and the air bubbles in the blood around it. She had been stabbed in the lung. He fell back, his chest tight. He reached for her hand, grasping it in his own. He brought it up to his lips, kissing it gently.

"Hold on, Tallie." He whispered. He placed her hand in his lap, curious as to why his fingers felt tacky. He flipped her hand to expose her wrist and let out a cry at what he saw. Her old scars were now transected by a new wound - she had very recently carved a word into her arm:

The word was _Miles_.


	19. Chapter 19

So... Here we are, chapter 19. Still don't have a name for the bad guy.

Have had... One suggestion that - no offense, James - was very... Odd. I want freakishly scary names. Like, "Ohemgee, that dude was born twisted."

Don't own anyone but Mara and Natalie. (And Ada Storms, I guess, but since she's based on XStormyX... I'm not actually sure HOW that works.)

Oh, I **NEED** all o' my regulars (*cough* Notorious, Pearls, Lunae...*cough*) to give me **FULL** character names, as they all get a CSI.

* * *

She didn't feel the tear slide down her cheek, revealing creamy white skin under the dirt and dust on her face as it fell. She didn't feel her chest burning; she didn't register the fact that a tube had been inserted into her chest to remove the air from her pleural cavity. She had no idea that EMTs were frantically humming around her like bees, stinging her skin with needles. She didn't know that someone was holding her hand - she didn't experience anything. She wasn't there to experience it. She had retreated deep into her self - so deep that she was no longer fighting to survive.

"She can't let go! She can't! Zane, you have to stop her- Miles! MILES! DON'T LET HER GO!" Maralie screamed, straining against Seren's embrace, her hands stretched out, fingers spread, reaching for her sister's prone body as it was loaded into the ambulance. "NATALIE! STAY HERE! NATALIE- ZANE! KEEP HER HERE! DON'T TAKE HER...!" She screamed, over and over, her tears falling freely.

Seren was hugging Mara to his chest, wrapping his entire body around hers, holding her together. Her sobbing was quieting down, turning into shuddering hiccups. When it came down to it, he was far more "dove-like" than the rest of the band - He usually preferred to discuss things before running in, guns blazing - But, in hurting Natalie, this... _demon_... had also hurt Mara. His Mara. That was unacceptable. He would be punished. Severely punished.

Deston stared at the vehicle as the doors were closed. He blinked at the wailing of the siren as it headed for the hospital. He pulled his gun from it's holster, his usually soft grey eyes hard with anger. He ran his fingers over the gun's length, stroking it like a lion cleans his paw before crushing his prey's throat with it - Slowly, relishing the fear his actions create.

Raoul cried out in Italian, his voice full of emotion. His green eyes flashed, his movements tight and catlike. He turned, and, seeing a tree, flew at it, his fists bared. He threw punch after punch, roaring in anger. He stopped suddenly as a crack was heard. He walked back to the van, flopping down on the ground beside it, his elbows resting on his knees, his head down. His body began to shake as blood flowed from his knuckles.

Daryan was staring at his hands, clenching them tightly, determination hardening his teenage resolve. He looked to the building, his mouth set in a hard, pitiless line. He was a shark, and he had scented blood. He turned to look at the faces of his bandmates. Natalie was their sister - whoever hurt her would pay.

'.'

The hall had been full of pandemonium. Doctors, nurses, surgeons - not to mention the CSIs who were there to take her things. They had crowded around the two of them, pushing him aside as they realized the blood that covered him was hers, and that he needed none of their attention, medically speaking. A nurse shoved a clipboard into his hands, instructing him to fill it out. When he had finished, she snatched it from him, giving him a paper cut. She fished a plaster from her pocket and stuck it on his finger. The girlish design sent a tremor of sadness down his spine as he remembered where he had last seen it. Natalie's Hello Kitty...

_Oh, Natalie..._

An hour passed. A male nurse walked the CSI out of the OR, handing her a cardboard box with an evidence seal wrapped around it. Miles Edgeworth bristled as the nurse placed his hand on his shoulder on his way out of the room. Edgeworth glared icily at the man, who stammered an apology as he pulled his hand away from the prosecutor's shoulder. He shuffled off, leaving Miles in the room alone.

.'.

Klavier Gavin came down, his hair tousled, his skin a pasty white. He walked over to the window that revealed the OR, bracing himself against the glass. His fingers scrabbled against it, a soft whine of sadness emitting from his lips. "_Mädchen_ Alley Cat..." He stood there for several minutes, singing softly in German.

"You realize that I understand everything you're singing." Edgeworth said, startling the young man. "And I don't appreciate it." The blonde looked over to him warily.

"What is it that you do not appreciate, Herr Edgeworth?" He asked with a sigh. The maroon-clad prosecutor simply narrowed his eyes. The young rockstar blinked as he suddenly understood the older man's comment. "Ach - you think me a rival! I can assure you, Herr Edgeworth, I have no..." He squinted, looking for the right way to put it. "I have no intention of stealing her from you. It's obvious she doesn't have... those sort of feelings for me, anyway. She's like a sister - not just because of Mara, either. She just... Fits in with us. She's a member of the pack. I have often wondered who held her heart, though..." He yawned before continuing. "You're a lucky man, Herr Edgeworth. And as for my singing... I was merely composing. She helps me with it, sometimes. It's always nice to have input from a female who doesn't swoon as soon as I open my mouth." He yawned again, shaking his head swiftly to clear it. "I'll be heading back to _mein _own room now. _Auf Wiedersehen_." He waved, his exit sending the room into silence once again.

'.'

Several hours had passed. Edgeworth had spent them mechanically answering and making phone calls. He watched as the team of medical staff finished repairing the damage that Natalie's kidnapper had inflicted.

Her chest was a solid stab wound was just one of many wounds he had created there - her lung had been punctured, but, when the X-ray techs developed the images, they saw that some of her ribs were covered in many tiny fractures, as if a heavy weight had been kept on her chest. There were long welts all over her body - her arms, back and legs where covered in them. They found a bite mark on her shoulder.

Along with photos of every other injury, a large portion of CSI Ada Storms' camera memory card was filled with photographs of the angry red and purple bruises around her neck where a rope or cord had been tied and tightened around the detective's neck. His cell phone rang. He opened it, answering with a curt, "Yes?"

"I wanted to tell you myself, Mr. Edgeworth." Ada's voice filled him with an odd mixture of hope and dread. "James Birdsong - down in the lab? I sent the swabs to him - had him test them for DNA, drugs, that sort of thing."

"Which swabs?" He asked, slightly confused.

"All of 'em. But... Well, I had him start with the SAE swabs." His blood turned cold.

"I don't want to hear it, Storms. I don't want to know." He whispered, his heart aching for his partner. He heard the CSI's sympathetic sigh. "But I get the impression that I already do, don't I."

"Yeah. Classic bruising patterns... But she fought back. I mean, the nail scrapings I collected? Skin cells. Even some dried blood. Type O positive."

"That's... O positive makes up around 40% of the American population. That's the most common blood type."

"You're preaching to the choir. But it means it's not hers. And we're running DNA tests now - maybe he's in the system." He sighed, standing up out of the uncomfortable seat he had been using.

"What about the bite?" He enquired sharply.

"We're going as fast as we can. But we can only do so many things at once, Edgeworth. There's like, five other CSIs that are still working the scene. The boys were adamantly against allowing Mara to go into the building, and Seren decided that he was better off just taking her home, because she hasn't slept in three days... The rest of the band isn't much better off, to be honest. Raoul broke his hand punching a tree, Daryan's been staring everyone down, and Deston's trigger finger is getting twitchy."

"I didn't ask about them, did I? Call me again when you have something." He hung up, anger seeping into him, making his movements jerky and uneven. The cell phone rang again. He flipped it open.

"What!" He hissed.

"Edgeworth?" Phoenix Wright asked. "Is she... Will she be okay? Can I see her?"

"I don't know - are you physically able to do so?" He replied, automatically correcting his friend's grammar - just as Natalie would have done.

"Huh?... Oh. For crying out loud - You sound just like her, Edgeworth. But, honestly - is she going to be - Can he get her? Is she going to be okay?"

"The doctors have just finished surgery. She's going to be placed in a private room with twenty four hour guards. I have given them a list of her allowed visitors. Absolutely no one that is _not _on that list is allowed on the same floor as her room. So she'll be safe. As for her being okay..." He looked through the window as the doctor finished suturing the wound on Natalie's chest. A nurse came over to clip the thread.

"Edgeworth? What aren't you telling me?" Phoenix demanded, the fear his voice clear, even coming from the small speaker on the cell phone.

"I... I don't know." Miles whispered, resting his forehead against the glass. The doctor was instructing his assistants, who were preparing to move her to her room. "Why am I... What's wrong with me, Tallie?" The phone slipped from his hand, clattering on the tile floor, as a tear slid down his cheek.


	20. Chapter 20

Hey there, true believers! Well, look at this - Chapter 20! Dang! Time flies when you're writing... Four fics at a time...? Something like that.

Anyway, this one's short. Kinda had to be...

But I'll let you guys figure out why.

And if I make you cry, you had **better** tell me!

Oh, and the song "Angel" by Sarah McLachlan is pretty much the un-official theme song of this chapter.

* * *

_**Beep... Beep... Beep...**_

"Natalie." I turned, covering my mouth with my hands.

"Zane?" I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I found him, Zane. I found the monster who killed you and your Papa. He got me, but not before I scratched him. I got his blood, Zane! His DNA! They'll catch him, and..." I looked around, confused. "Where is everyone else..?" He grabbed my hand.

"They're waiting for you to wake up." He kissed me, gently, on the cheek. "You see, _mon amour_...You don't belong here." He turned, looking at something I couldn't see. He smiled. "A friend of mine has been waiting for someone for quite a while. He's been here before, but... Well, he's staying this time. I don't think Mia will let him leave." I blinked, the name stirring up memories.

"Diego..?" He nodded.

"Natalie, you need to wake up." He said, pulling my arms from his neck. "They need you." He kissed my cheek one last time. "_Eres mi ángel_, Natalie. Now, go."

"Go where?" I ask. He just looks at me, his smoky grey-brown eyes... I blinked. Zane's eyes had been dark brown. These eyes were... He smiled again, stroking my cheek.

"Go to him, Nay-Tay."

* * *

_**Beep... Beep... Beep...**_

_Augh... Everything hurts... My throat... My chest..! What... What happened to me? Oh... NO! NO, NO, NO! Zane was wrong they won't be here he killed them he killed Klavier and Nick and Deston and Dary and Seren and Roo and HE KILLED MILES go back go back to sleep sleep forever it hurts oh God it hurts MILES IS GONE I'm alive WHY AM I ALIVE I'm done let me go let me go let me die I'm alone let me die alone just let me end it al-_

"Natalie?"

_Miles..? No, he's gone he's dead HE KILLED HIM I saw his jacket full of blood he's dead MILES I wish I could be with you WHERE ARE YOU MILES it hurts make it stop I want to be numb let me be numb let me fall asleep and never ever ever wake up-_

"Natalie. Can you... Can you hear me? I... Oh, Tallie..."

_Tallie? Am I Tallie? What's... water on my hand his tears are falling on my hands he's holding my hand to his face who is this he sounds so familiar why does he sound so familiar LIKE MILES he sounds like Miles but how Miles is gone-_

"The CSIs found... clothing in the storage room where you were... Being held. Natalie, he lied. He lied to you. No one's dead. He didn't kill anyone. They're alive. I'm alive. You have to wake up, Tallie. You have to wake up so I can tell you..."

_Miles? MILES! IT IS YOU! YOU'RE HERE! TELL ME tell me, Miles... Oh, God - Your fingers on my face softly gently caressing me tell me Miles is it a secret whisper it in my ear I won't tell I hear you coming closer to me your forehead touching mine tell me Miles wake me up-_

"...I love you."

_I love you too I LOVE YOU TOO I LOVE YOU MILES EDGEWORTH I_

_"...love...you...too...Miles..." _


	21. Chapter 21

New chapter, new style, new... Umm...

Actually, I think that's the only thing that's new at the moment.

Miles, Franzie, Manfred, Mia and Maya ain't mine, but Mara, Nat, and Zane are.

* * *

'.' Miles '.'

"Miles Edgeworth!" Franziska shouted, whip cracking, heels clicking loudly. She stomped towards me, stopping less than three feet from the chair I was sitting in. "MILES EDGEWORTH!"

"Yes?"

"Don't you 'yes' me, fool! I have called you over and over, and you foolishly ignored my calls! I finally had to come here, to this foolish hospital!" Her whip cracked violently, emphasizing her frustration. I looked up, running my long fingers through my hair. I had removed my jacket and cravat, and had draped them on the chair next to me.

"What do you want, Franziska?" I asked wearily, shuffling through a pile of photos documenting Natalie's wounds. She snatched them from my hand. "What are you doing? Those are-AUGH! Bloody hell, Franziska!" I yelled, clutching my forearm. She twitched her whip again in warning. I rolled up my sleeve, looking at the raised welt forming where her whip had struck me. Her whip had struck me with inspiration. (pun not intended, I assure you.) "Welts..!" I took the photos from Franziska, searching through them frantically. "There!" I pointed to a wound in one of the photos. "What does this look like to you?"

"A wound." She blinked. "Wha-" She took a closer look. "That looks like..!" She rubbed the back of her hand in an unconscious reaction to her memories. _"Papa." _I nodded, remembering the many... 'Run-ins' I had endured with Manfred vonKarma's cane as a young man. _"So... She was beaten..." _My adopted sister whispered, wrapping her arms around herself as if to ward off a sudden chill. "This foolish fool of a monster had better be found soon, Miles Edgeworth." She warned, flicking her whip as she spun on her heel and headed off in the opposite direction.

I shrugged at her typically odd behavior. _Speaking of sisters... I wonder how Maya's doing..? _ I considered pulling my phone out to dial her cell number as the door to Natalie's room opened. Her twin sister walked out.

Although she looks almost identical to Natalie (their preference in clothing style is really the only way people can tell them apart), Maralie is, for the most part, rather quiet and reserved. Even her outfit was subdued - a khaki calf-length skirt, brown boots, and a white sweater. Of course, there was also the enormous emerald hanging from the gold chain around her neck; but with her fiery red hair softly brushing her shoulders she made the jewel look tasteful, as opposed to tacky.

I wondered idly if Tallie would ever wear something like that. My mind wandered to the drawing from my elder sister Mia's favourite movie - "Titanic". I attempted to shake the image from my mind, but only succeeded in lodging it in deeper. When I tried to think of something else, all that came to mind was the morning she was kidnapped. When I had walked in on her in her...state of undress. Bloody testosterone!

"Oh... Hello, Mr. Edgeworth. Natalie's... she's still not responding. I'd love to stay and chat, but..." Maralie's comment faded as she saw the photos in my hand.

"You have evidence to analyze." I said, slightly confused as to why Tallie wasn't talking to anyone - she had talked with me several days ago. Well, she said a few words. Of course, the doctor had informed me later that she may have simply been speaking nonsense... But I'd like to think she knew what she was saying. I gestured to the door, silently asking if I was allowed enterance. Maralie nodded, her smile seeming to wish me a silent "good luck".

* * *

'.' Natalie '.'

"Do you... Um... Do you remember anything?" Mara asked, holding my hand, gently. "Oh, Nay Nay... I wish... I wish you could tell me what happened." I thought of our hands, clasped together, just like when we were innocent little girls. Those days seemed like an eternity ago, now... He had said that my voice was what first drew him to me. He said it fit 'my role' perfectly... He said my voice was that of a queen, both beautify and terrible, with the power to control men with a single word. He went on to say that the men I had controlled where going to turn against me, and, as such, they must be destroyed. It was supposedly for this very reason that I had saved him from the inferno.

Oh, yes - I had 'saved his life'. I had forgotten the event, but he had reminded me of it often, sometimes several times an hour. It had happened when I was still at the academy - I was doing rounds with a senior officer when a call came out. It was for a fire, possible arson, at a dry cleaner's. Looking back, I wish I had stayed in the stupid cruiser. If I had, then he wouldn't have lived, he wouldn't have killed Zane...

Of course, if Zane hadn't died, I would have never met Miles. I rubbed the bandage on my wrist as I thought of him. My cheeks began to heat. Mara looked at her watch as it beeped.

"Time's up for today, huh?" She squeezed my hand before letting it go. "I miss you, Natalie." When she said that, I nearly opened my eyes - nearly called out her name - but I remembered that he was still out there, somewhere. He could be in the hall, even. I was determined to keep silent until he was found and brought to court. I heard her footsteps - _click, click, click, click, pause_ - the door open - _cherk_ - more heel clicks - _click, click, pause_ - "Oh... Hello, Mr. Edgeworth. Natalie's... she's still not responding. I'd love to stay and chat, but..."

"You have evidence to analyze." _I hope the EKG doesn't take that skipped heartbeat as anything serious... _His quiet, determined footsteps enter the room - But all I could really hear was my heart thumping loudly in my ears. He pulled the chair up next to the bed - _skuurch - _sat down, and sighed. "I know you're awake."

_ "Can't... fool you... can I?"_

"Maralie said you're not responding. Why aren't you talking to anyone else?" Because they want to talk about what happened. And I'm not really in the mood for _that_ drive down memory lane just yet.

_"They... wanna ask... about... what happened. I don't wanna... think about it. Hurts too much."_

"Ah."

_ "Miles..?"_

"Hmm?"

_ "Say my name... please."_ He leaned in closer. I reached up with my right hand to brush the hair from his cheek.

"Natalie..?" I shook my head, stroking his jawline with my thumb. His head tilted slightly, his eyes narrowing in thought. They widened as he understood my request. "Oh..." He smiled slightly, the twinkle in his beautiful chocolate-grey eyes once again sending my heart skipping down into my toes. "Tallie."

_"Mmmm... I like that." _His head still tilted, he reached out to touch my face with his fingertips. They haltingly danced across my lips.

"Tallie." I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. "Tallie..." I closed my eyes as his hand rested on my cheek. _"Tallie..."_

A cup of hot tea could never taste as delicious as that first kiss did.


	22. Chapter 22

Ah... I've somehow let myself to be talked into letting you all to read my journal entries. I don't know what Tallie's thinking, letting everyone and their brother read her diaries... When I suggested she write them, I meant it as a therapeutic exercise, and nothing more. *Sighs* Well, I suppose I had best get on with all of the "necessary formalities"... Natalie wrote them on a sticky-note, where is it..?

*shuffles through papers on his desk*

Ah, here it is.

*clears throat*

**"Miles Edgeworth belongs to Cap...com..?"**

What the bloody hell is a Capcom! NATALIE..!

* * *

'.'

"Tallie." I came close to the bed, pulling back the red lace curtain. I bent down to sit on the edge of the bed. She shifted slightly as I leaned forward to kiss her cheek. Her sleep-tousled hair smelled like oranges and silk.

_"Mmmrph... Miles..." _She murmured with a yawn. _"Did you sleep in the chair..?" _She asked, her voice soft as a kitten's purr. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. _What... Mmmm... What time is it?"_

"10:20... Time for me to leave. Your... _nurse_... was insistent that I do so when she came in earlier." She laughed softly. "If she were to find out I stayed..." She cleared her throat and ran a finger along my jawline. I swallowed hard.

"Hmmm... Then maybe you _should_ go. My sister can be very... unreasonable when disobeyed." She moved closer, her long, delicate fingers stroking my face softly. "But don't go too far. It's so... quiet... When you're not around." I stroked her hair, which had recently been butchered by CSIs intent on collecting as much of the dried blood evidence on her body as possible."I could get used to this..." She sighed. I watched her body shift under the thin silk sheets.

"To what?"

"Sleeping in..." I ran my fingers through her fluffy curls, frowning at the fact that they ended slightly below her chin. I wish I had been able to run my fingers through it back when it cascaded down her back...

"You miss it, don't you?" She asked after a few moments, lacing her fingers with mine. "I know I do." She sighed and shook her head with a bitter laugh. "Wow. I miss my _hair_. Of all the things to miss..." She fell silent, brushing several strands behind her ear, only to have them flop back into her face. She sniffed. "You know what? It didn't bother me in the hospital. Well, it did bother me, but not because it had been cut... I mean... God, I dunno _what _I mean! Everything was outta control... It still is!" She said in an impassioned whisper as she struck the black velvet duvet with her fist.

"Phoenix loses his badge because Klavier, who JUST got out of a cast, catches him with forged evidence. My brother, forging evidence..? He's never cheated on anything! EVER!" She gritted her teeth and snorted angrily before continuing. "Mara's overprotective anxiety is driving me nuts! She's always hovering, fussing about this or that. 'Do you need anything, Natalie? Another blanket? An aspirin? Want me to make you a snack? How about a glass of water?' All. Day. Long!" She coughed as her voice started going hoarse. I offered her the straw of the water bottle sitting on the nightstand. She groaned as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

"She means well." I whispered, reaching up to bring her arms down from around my neck. "I need to go." She looked up at me, her emerald green eyes pulling me in like quicksand.

"I need you to stay." She whispered, blinking.

"Your sister-"

"Screw Mara. Not literally, of course - that's Seren's job." She smiled at my reaction. "But honestly, Miles, at the moment... I don't care what she says." She sighed again, closing her eyes tightly. "Can I... Can I tell you a secret..?" She whispered, settling her hands in her lap.

"Of course you can, Tallie." I replied.

"The man... He told me - showed me - that you were dead. When I saw that coat... It was like... Nothing mattered anymore. And part of me... Part of me still feels like that." She stopped, staring blankly at her hands. "Because..." She shuddered. "I'm broken."

'.'

It was as if someone had flipped a switch - she looked up at me, peeking out from behind a fringe of red bangs. Her eyes - God, her eyes! Those beautiful green cat eyes, so vibrant and versatile - one moment they shot daggers, the next they were staring into your soul - had gone dim. No; not dim... They'd become empty. Dead.

"For all I know... This could be a dream." She whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. I wasn't quite sure how to respond to that - but I know what she would have done - what she _had_ done - when our roles had been switched. I pulled the thin sheet aside and eased myself in to the bed next to her. She turned, burying her face in my chest, clutching my shirt. I felt her shake with each sob - with my body and soul. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her together, letting her cry.

She cried for what felt like hours - each minute was more agonizing than the one before it. She was right there, in my arms, and there was nothing I could do to help her - nothing I could say that could heal her brokenness. Her shuddering sobs had given way to hiccups, which had, in turn, become a tentative, yet calm, silence. I reached for the box of tissues on the bedside table and handed it to her.

"Thank you." She whispered, taking one and wiping her eyes with it. "I think I ruined your shirt." I looked down - eight little crescent moons had been ripped in it. She had been gripping it so tightly that her nails had gone through the fabric. I glanced around the room, noticing the antique wrought-iron dressmaker's form.

"Was that here before?" I asked, pointing to it. She shook her head, her eyes gaining back a bit of their lively sparkle.

"Isn't it just delicious? It's real, too - not a replica. The boys gave it to me for my birthday - three days before the 'forgery' bullshit happened... It was totally a bribe, though, because I also received several of their shirts that need buttons replaced, jeans that need holes strategically ripped and sewn, and at least..." She stopped, looking at her hands again. "Two jackets." Her eyes began to fade again. I grasped for the first thought and went with it.

"You mean to tell me that I've been paying an unnecessary tailoring fee for every suit I've purchased for almost two years now?" She looked up at me with a hint of the familiar wicked twinkle.

"..They're different suits?"

"Of course, they're different suits! I have several in different wool blends, a few in cotton, three in silk-"

"And they're all the exact same cut and colour."

"...I like to think of it as a uniform." She scrunched up her face, sticking her tongue out. Natalie was back.

"I had to wear a uniform as a kid. In fact-!" She snapped her fingers and began untangling herself from my arms. "I think I still have it!" She ran over to the wall, flinging a heavy black and silver brocade curtain aside to reveal another room. "This was supposed to be a studio, originally. But the previous owners used it for their baby's room. The walls were this awful blush... colour..." She froze, bringing her hands to her face in horror.

"Tallie? Tallie, what's the matt-" She spun, her eyes blazing.

"MARA!" She screamed. "MARALIE WRIGHT! GET IN HERE!" She dropped to her knees with a wail. I knelt down next to her, frantically searching her face for any hint as to what had set her off.

"Tallie, what's wrong?" She shook her head and pointed to the wall, which was covered in shelving units, each one devoted to a different shade of fabric. It was surprisingly organized, for Natalie. Her sister ran in, her face going from anxious (at her sister's screams) to annoyed (at my presence) before settling with guilty.

"What were you thinking!" Natalie wailed.

"I.. They were all over the place, Nat. I needed to fix my skirt, and... Well, I couldn't even find your sewing machine, much less a needle and thread-" Now the level of functional (as opposed to chaotic) organization made sense. Maralie had done it while Tallie was in the hospital.

"So you put everything _away_? How many times have I told you NOT TO TOUCH MY STUFF?" She continued to rant, even going so far as to throw her mushroom-shaped pincushion, nailing her sister in the face. They then began fighting in earnest, with Maralie calling a time-out when her phone rang. She took it from her pocket and groaned about having to respond to a 419. She walked out of the door, reminding her sister to behave. Natalie grinned, victorious.

This was the woman who had just been sobbing her eyes out less than five minutes ago, and now... She was acting as if nothing had happened. If I hadn't been there, I would never have believed she had shed even a single tear. She was... brilliant. Absolutely, breath-takingly brilliant. I stared at her, my heart pounding heavily in my chest. I placed my hand on her shoulder - she turned and looked at me inquisitively.

"So... Do you think you could fix my shirt?" I asked, slightly breathless. She nodded, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

"You'd have to take it off first." She _had_ brought it up...

"Ah. Do you... Umm... want to assist..?" She bit her lip and turned away, trying not to cry. _Had I been wrong..?_

"Please don't." She whispered, hugging herself tightly. "I... don't want to have you out of pity, okay?"

"Pity? What..." Suddenly, my mind flashed back to the day she had been found - And the SAE kit. _Oh. Bloody. HELL._ "Natalie." I grasped her shoulders. "Tallie, look at me." She did, her green eyes swimming in tears. I wrapped my arms around her. "Tallie..." How could I explain what I felt for her? "Can I tell you a secret?" I asked, stroking her hair once again. She sniffed and nodded.

"About two months... No. It happened long before that. I'm not really quite sure when, but... Wait. Yes I am - It was December 28th."

"The anniversary of your father's death."

"Yes. I had been through quite a lot that day, if you can remember."

"I do. Your presence was requested at three... 'Conferences'... before noon, and it just kept getting crazier and crazier."

"I broke down in my office that night." She nodded. "And you... held me." She nodded again. I sighed, running my fingers through my hair.

"When I turned 15... Manfred vonKarma sat me down and explained... _it_. In vivid detail." She winced in sympathy. "He told me that it was necessary to... 'get it out of my system' before it... ruined me. I won't go in to all the details, but I will say that his approach was cruel and effective." Her eyes widened.

"So when you saw me getting changed... You weren't-"

"No." She put her hand over her mouth. "In fact... It was quite the opposite." She smiled slightly. I was amused to see that she was blushing almost as brightly as I was. " When I heard the message you had left on my answering machine-"

"I figured you reacted the way you did because you thought that I was... You know...Ugly, or something."

"Oh, hell, no! I STILL go half-mad every time I see a bloody Hello Kitty!" She laughed out loud, the sound like a jack turning in the clamp around my chest, tightening it further. She shoved me, gently, in the chest, pushing me down to the floor, and kissed my cheek. She watched as my eyes fell to the spot where one of her pyjama top's buttons was missing.

"I should probably fix that, huh?" She asked with a nervous smile. "But... Um..." She bit her lip again, rubbing a piece of silk between her fingers. "Do you mind if I fix yours first..?"

"I wouldn't mind that at all, my love."


	23. Chapter 23

We're getting close to the ends, guys! Only two chapters to go...

* * *

'.' Natalie '.'

I got to have a Mara-free week and a half later that month... And I spent it pretty much attached to Miles. The break came about when Seren asked Mara to come with them (being the boys) on their mini-tour (a week and a half, as opposed to several months) in Hawaii. I think he did it to prove that he wasn't 'happily swimming in an ocean of obsessed fan-girls' as she had so recently accused him of doing. For all of her positive traits, Mara is an extremely jealous person.

We had been wanting to replace the awful laminate flooring in the kitchen with something... Less awful... And Mara decided that, since she was going to be gone, we might as well have it done during her vacation. She was all for having me accompany them on the trip (as was Raoul, the horny little freak) but I told her I'd rather spend the week at Linsie's place. I almost felt bad about lying, but I did intend to spend part of the week at my friend's place, so it wasn't a total lie...

After dropping them off at the airport ("The airport's on the way to Miles' office" explained his presence) I brought him to meet my friend Linsie Doyle.

* * *

'.' Miles '.'

I had made the assumption that Natalie was one of a kind when it came to odd and artistic. I was wrong. Her friend Linsie Doyle was a painter with streaks of retina-searing bubblegum pink dye in her platinum blonde pigtails, a powder-blue mini-skirt, and a bright yellow Hello Kitty shirt. _Why did it have to be Hello Kitty...?_

"Kitty Cat! Oi 'eard your sister was owt uf town! Good Gawd, what'd you do wiv your 'air naow! Oi, don't worry, luv, Oi'll fix it - make it look real noice, I will!" Natalie's grin was almost... pitying.

"Ah... So you're Eliza today, huh?" She asked, her voice suddenly suddenly changing in pitch and timbre, becoming English, like my own. She turned and mouthed the word 'Relax'. "However am I to turn this bit of guttersnipe into a proper lady?" The blonde squealed with mock indignation.

"AWWOH! Oi'm a good girl, Oi am!" She bounced on her toes and grinned puckishly. "I really am glad you're outta there, mate." She continued, her voice dropping an octave and losing the London accent, exchanging it for one of a more Australian sound instead. "I need help wiv my lines. This musical's a bugger, ya know that? All the singing'll kill me, to be sure." She took Natalie by the hand, dragging her into a back room. "Be back in two shakes."

"Oh. My. Gawd! He's GORGEOUS!" Linsie gushed as soon as they had entered her "back room" - which was basically a closet, sans door. She was now speaking with what Natalie later referred to as her "heir-head" accent, and was speaking loudly enough to be heard in the next county, not to mention the next room where I was still standing. "Total hottie! How did you land him? Does he, like, have a brother? Or a cousin? OO! Is he a twin? Well, is he?" She was spewing questions left and right - It was a wonder she hadn't pulled a jaw muscle yet, what with all of the talking she was doing.

"What's with the frilly thingie around his neck? Is he one of those "Pseudo-vampires" like Guy Down The Hall? You remember him, right? You and your sister weren't there for very long... Total bummer that you two moved to a house right away, BTW. We could've had, like, totally awesome parties... OMG, so anyway - GDTH? Yeah, he's like, a majorly creepy freaky dude! He, like, gave me a dead fish the other day. I mean, who the hell gives somebody a dead fish? Like, what am I even spose'd to do with a friggin' DEAD FISH?" She stopped and took a huge gulp of air. "I'm, like, totally done with your hair, BTW. Looks totally hawt. Mirror!" She shoved a hand mirror in Tallie's face. "Can I do the little tippys, like, blue or something? OO! Howbout GREEN!"

"No colour!" I called. I took a slightly guilty pleasure at the bloody spastic's groan of disappointment.

"Kitty Caaaatttt!" She whined. "Please tell your BF to, like, lemme do the little tippys! PLEEEEASE!"

"No thanks, Lins. I have a hard enough time dressing professionally for work as it is."

"Ohkaaaaay... How about another tattoo? Oo! Like a giant butterfly or somethin'? I could, like, totally do it right now!"

"No thank you, Linsie. I've exceeded my quotia of skin poking for the year." Tallie climbed out of the chair and began walking towards me.

"Okay, tcha, whatever _that _means. Are you sure you don't want even a teensy tiny one..?"

"Absolutely. Now, if Mara calls..." The blonde nodded and gave an exaggerated wink.

"I tell her that you and I have been, like, practically inseparable, and she's only _just_ missed you. Squee! Oh, this will be, like, so totally much FUN! I've already invented, like, a bajillion totally awesome activities we're not actually gunna do, like... Make-overs, manicures, pedicures, paintballing, shopping-" She was jumping up and down, rather like Kay... Except for the fact that Kay wasn't so damned obnoxious when she did it.

That's great, Linsie. Just... Be consistent, okay? She is a CSI - it's her job to find inconsistencies."

"Don't worry, Kitty Cat! I'm going to have soooo much fun, it'll be like you're totally here even when you're not!" She waved enthusiastically as we left the building.

* * *

'.' Natalie '.'

"If you value my sanity, you will NEVER take me there again." Miles was understandably shaken.

"I'm sorry - She's usually not that bad." I apologized, turning into the mall parking lot.

"How on EARTH does someone like that survive outside of a mental institution?" He asked, pointing to an open parking space.

"Heh... She kinda doesn't, actually. When she's medicated, she's great. When she's not on her meds, she's... That." I turned the car off and unfastened my seat-belt. "The only thing you can really do when she's off is going along with it. Sadly, she doesn't see the point of her medication, so she's been more and more off lately."

"May I ask why she takes medication?" He inquired, before climbing out of the car to open my door.

"Yeah, I guess." I took a deep breath. "Linsie has... issues. Psychological issues, I mean. She has these... Characters, I guess. They aren't quite different personalities... They're more like... Imaginary friends. One's Eliza Doolittle-esque, another is an Aussie, and then, there's the 'heir-head'. She's also got a Scot, a Southern Belle, a ten year-old girl, and a French woman. They're her 'safety nets', according to her doctors." I sighed.

"When I was laying in that hospital bed, remembering what had happened, I kinda... I dunno... I guess I understood her more." I shrugged before threading my arm through his. "I understood how she could be so screwed up, I mean. It's how her brain decided to cope with her parents' deaths." He nodded slowly. As we walked in, a blast of cold air shot at us. "Gotta love air-conditioning... So, anyway, I'm going to go there," I pointed to a store on the large map in front of us. The store sold what Mara considered 'alternative fashion'. "And then here," A smaller shop that sold lotions and soaps, "And there." I pointed vaguely in the direction of the last one - Miles had already gone through enough today. Sanrio Express was a tortur- an experience I eagerly wished to inflict on him, but it could wait for a day when he wasn't already on edge.

"I'll... Wait for you there." He said, pointing to the bookstore. Typical Miles.

"I'll meet you there at..." I looked at my watch. "1:30. We can grab lunch at the food court." I gave him a peck on the cheek and walked off.

'.'

When I shop for clothes, I usually do it with an intent to alter them to the point where their designer wouldn't even recognize them. The exception would be, of course, underwear and swimsuits. I mean, there's really not all that much to alter when it comes to string bikinis.

I sorted through the racks idly, finding a few shirts Mara might like (Green tunic length tee with a pink unicorn, green tee shirt with a butterfly, white tee shirt with green music notes...) but nothing that seemed to call out to me. I headed over to the guys stuff - sometimes I can find stuff there.

And oh, did I find something there. It was black, with a faded grey imperial crest design (you know, one of those lions with a shield thingies) with the words, "laws are silent in time of war" written in dark red ink. The quote was something Miles had said when he told me about his little _adventure_ at the embassy on the day I was taken... Anyway, I had looked it up, and found that it was originally said by Cicero.

Best of all, the shirt was my boyfriend's siz- I stopped. _Oh. My. Gawd_. It had just hit me - Miles Edgeworth is my boyfriend. (Assuming that all the kissing we'd been doing lately constitutes boyfriend/girlfriend status, that is.) I suddenly felt the strange desire to start squealing like a Gavinner's fangirl (which was ironic, considering that I had one of their green t-shirts in my hand.) It was all I could do to walk over to the check-out to pay for the shirts without making a scene.

I practically skipped to my next destination - maybe I did, I'm not sure. I grabbed some shampoo and conditioner and was about to check out when I saw their new product line. I usually buy Orange Dreamsicle - I love anything orange scented (or flavoured, come to think of it) but this? This was perfect. It was Cinnamon Green Tea. A bottle of Cinnamon Green Tea shampoo (and some bath crystals) later, I was headed to Sanrio Express.

Yes, I know, I'm a "punk" bordering on "goth" - but I honestly can't get enough of that silly white cat. Granted, most of my Hello Kitty items get makeovers (I replace her cutesy pink bow with a red or black one) but still. Mara thinks that it's my way of trying to deal with our screwed up childhood. In other words, she thinks Hello Kitty is for babies. If that's true, why does Sanrio Express have an adult section in the back? In order to get in, you're carded by a dude in a full body Hello Kitty costume. (Shouldn't that worry parents at least a little? I mean, they're letting their little girls play with that freak!)

After making my purchase, I looked at my watch. Shoot - It was 1:15! I headed for the bookstore, only to see my maroon-clad boyfriend (Squee~!) sitting at a table in the food court. I came up behind him, dropped my bags next to his chair and covered his eyes with my hands. He stiffened, tightening his grip on his book.

"Hey there..."

"Natalie." He said, relaxing. "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't do that." I dropped my hands, resting my elbows on his shoulders.

"I'm starving. You wanna split a pizza?" I straightened up and nodded towards the pizza vendor.

"Why do you insist on eating that... Grease?" He asked with a shudder.

"Because it tastes good, _duh_." I placed my order - An orange soda and a medium Hawaiian to go - and paid the young kid behind the counter. Miles shook his head as I took my box. I stuck out my tongue and held out my hand. He looked at it oddly. "Gimme your hand." He looked up at me. I sighed. "Will you _please_ hold my hand?" He smiled slightly, lacing his fingers with mine.

"However am I to turn this bit of guttersnipe into a proper lady?" He asked lightly. I was drinking my soda at the moment when he said it, and his dour expression sent me into a fit of laughter which caused soda to shoot out of my nose. Orange soda is _not_ meant to be shot through the human nose, let me tell you.

But kisses heal pretty much anything - even soda-burned nostrils.

* * *

'.' Miles '.'

Natalie had decided to climb into my bed while I was in the shower. "Mmm... I like your sheets. They're so soft~!" She wiggled further into the nest of pillows and blankets she had made with the bedding. "Come snuggle!"

"Come... what?" I asked, amused at her... Almost kitten-like behaviour.

"Snuggle! You know... Cuddle?" She sighed, exasperated. "Just get over here. Please." I obliged, pushing aside several pillows.

"Why do you have the couch cushions in here?" She shrugged, and threw herself at me as soon as I had climbed under the covers. She shifted her body slightly, minutely adjusting her position until she apparently found just the right spot. She sighed, contented, her ear to my chest.

"I can hear your heartbeat."

"I would hope so." She laughed quietly.

"Mmm... What do you wanna do tomorrow?" She asked, casually unbuttoning my silk pyjama shirt.

"That depends. Are you going to actually consider my suggestion, or are you just going to-"

"No, I'll take your suggestions into consideration. I just ignored the last two because I wasn't going to go to the Concert Hall when it was gorgeously sunny and seventy-five degrees out." She said, pushing the shirt off of my chest. "Well, I'll consider them as long as they don't include work, that is. I'm still on medical leave for another... two weeks."

"Well, in that case..." I began listing our previous activities on my fingers. "We dropped your sister off on Monday. We went to the movie on Tuesday. We _should_ have gone to the symphony on Wednesday, but we ended up going to the dog park-"

"Shut up - you loved it. You and Pesu both did."

"...Alright, I'll admit, it was good for Pesu to get out and run off the leash." I cleared my throat and continued. "Yesterday I had a trial, so we went out for dinner afterward. And today we went downtown." She nodded, tugging my shirt. I slipped it off and watched as she threw it to the floor.

"Much better. So... What will Saturday hold?" She asked again. I had several choices - many I'd enjoy and she would loathe, and others she'd appreciate and I'd detest. The middle ground options were slim to none. But there was one - the museum.

"I elect that we go to the museum tomorrow." She squealed in excitement, which I also took as approval. She looked up at me and then looked to the lamp on the bedside table. I grinned - at first she had tried to rid me of my... aversion to nudity. But, after a few attempts, she realized that simply turning the light off worked.

Of course, that meant she wanted the light off _all the time_...


	24. Chapter 24

ONLY ONE CHAPTER LEFT! Seriously, guys - if you love me, you'll review. Annnnd if you hate me... You'll review.

REVIEW, darnit!

* * *

'.' Miles '.'

"I don't get this one." She frowned, pointing to the painting on the wall. "Is it supposed to look like a really messy tablecloth, or am I missing the point entirely?"

"It's not anything specific, Tallie." I replied, pulling the sleeve of my shirt up to look at my watch.

"You're glad you wore that, aren't you?" She asked, running her finger along my back. "I told you normal clothes are comfy, didn't I?" I looked down at the outfit she had forced on me - a graphite coloured jacket over a black tee shirt and dark... jeans. I had shuddered when she threw them at me, demanding I wear them, but I had to admit... They were comfortable.

"Yes, you did." I looked at the painting again and sighed. "This is depressing. Even _I _can't tell what the artist was thinking..." She tugged on my arm.

"What better reason than to go head over to the costumes and clothing exhibit?" She urged, pulling me towards the exit. "_Pleeeease_! I've been _reeeeally _patient..." Now she was begging. I could never say no when she began to beg. Next came the- "_Miles_..." -bloody puppy dog eyes and lip quiver. Does she honestly feel no shame when she does that in public?

"All right, all right - we'll go look at the textiles exhibit." She perked up, clapping her hands. She rocked on her heels, her tiny little pigtails bouncing like they were on springs. She was wearing a white tee shirt underneath a black vest, (I had a sneaking suspicion that she had stolen it from my closet.) a red plaid mini-skirt, black tights, and thick-heeled black knee boots.

And a Hello Kitty backpack.

"Yay!" She pulled the museum map from my hands. "Ummm... Oo! We get to go through the Medieval Hall to get there!" I looked at the map.

"Not unless you want to start at the end, we don't." I pointed to the arrows printed on the map. "The entrance is at the end of the sculpture hall." She squinted at the brochure and shrugged, taking my hand and walking to the next room.

"Woah... Nudity. Can you handle this, Miles, or should I cover your eyes..?" She teased, pointing to one of the statues. It was a bronze Grecian-style piece of what appeared to be Aphrodite... in all her glory. "Hey... Her feet are screwed up. See? She only has four toes on her right foot." Natalie had crouched down to look at the base of the statue. "And... the toes on her left foot are all the same length."

"Perhaps the artist wanted to add slight details to make it obvious that she's not human." I remarked, looking at the goddess' uplifted right hand.

"Or maybe he just sucked at feet..." She muttered.

"Hmm.. She has a heart carved into her right wrist." I looked at the left hand, which was holding a chalice at about mid-chest level. "There's one on her left wrist, too." Natalie rose up from the floor, dusting off her knees.

"There isn't anything on her ankles, if you're interested. Just a pair of wonky feet." She shrugged and headed for the next piece. "First Aphrodite and now... A circus clown..? What is _up_ with this place..?" She muttered, shivering in revulsion. I smirked - she hates clowns with a passion that rivals my hatred of earthquakes and ladders. "Oh, yippee. It's a cow..."

"It's 'A Bull." She looked at me curiously. I shrugged and pointed to the title plaque. "It's entitled 'A Bull'."

"Oh. Whatever." She walked over to the next one. "I like this one!" I smiled. It was a Chinese dragon with a large stone globe in it's paw to represent the pearl of luck traditionally held by Lungs.

She walked to the next display and let out a small scream.

"Tallie?" I ran over to where she was standing. She was pointing to a scrap-metal sculpture of a man. The display was crude - and not just because of the knife-like object he held at his side. He was facing the wall, his hand reaching towards a painting that was equally crude. It was done in shades of red and black, and the subject of the painting was a young red-haired woman. A young red-haired woman lying in a pool of blood, which was flowing from a wound on her side. "What the hell?"

"That's _him_." Natalie whispered, her entire body shaking uncontrollably. "And that's the knife."

* * *

'.' Natalie '.'

Wanna know how to screw up a vacation with your boyfriend? You find a sculpture created by your kidnapper _on display in a public museum. _And then you realize that the piece of metal the statue has in it's hand _is the one that was shoved into your lung_.

So, anyway - when I began to freak out, Miles called the CSIs and detectives and everybody who was involved in 'my case' (minus the boys and Mara, who were still in Hawaii and couldn't really help out). He also got ahold of the curator, who informed us (well, he informed _them_ - I had, uh... Okay, I was having a panic attack in the curator's office - but you can't really blame me for that, can you?) that the piece had been found in receiving almost a month ago. No, he wasn't really sure _when_ exactly, you'd have to ask the boys down in shipping, they'd know.

The 'boys down in shipping' had no official record of the piece - it had just shown up one night. Maybe three weeks ago? The head of the sculpture wing needed to put something in the empty space next to the door and had really liked the 'piece of junk'. Yes, it had the painting with it - it was hanging around it's neck. No, it doesn't have a face.

So then they questioned the Sculpture Wing's head curator. The piece is absolutely breathtaking, is it not? What do you mean, it's awful? NO! You most certainly can NOT take it! It was left in the shipping department, which makes it museum property! A warrant? You'll be hearing from the museum's attorneys!

And eventually it was my turn to be questioned.

[recorded May 20, 2019, at 12:22 pm]

"Detective Wright, have you ever seen this (gestures to photograph of the sculpture) before?"

"No... Not like this. I mean... I... That's him. That's the... he did it. I've seen _him_. Never the statue. It's... I don't wanna talk about it. I just want to forget about this whole... [censored] thing, okay!"

"How did you recognize this (gestures to photograph of statue again) as being a representation of your kidnapper?"

"How do you think I recognized it? I was with him every day for nine [censored] days! He attacked me, he abused me, he... I _know _him. And I know that knife."

"You mean this (points to a photograph of a sharpened piece of metal)?"

"...(mutters)..."

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I said stick it up your [censored] and leave me the [censored] alone!"

"Detective... Just answer the question."

"FINE! YES! That's the knife! I found it and was going to use it on the [censored], but he took it from me and stabbed me in the side!"

"Detective, there's no need for hostility. Tell me, what is your relationship with Prosecutor Edgeworth?"

"He's my boss."

"Hmm. How many supervisors spend a day at an art museum with one of their employees?"

"...I'm sorry, what does that have to do with this..?"

"Are you in a romantic relationship with Miles Edgeworth?"

"[censored] you! I'm done with this [censored]!"

(interviewee throws mug of coffee at the wall and slams door as she leaves the room)

* * *

'.' Miles - Tuesday (three days later) '.'

She was sitting at the table, absently pushing her food around with her fork. Since the fiasco at the art museum, everytime I had suggested doing something, she would sigh and shake her head.

"I... I don't feel like it, okay?" She was quiet and spent several hours just... sitting. Sometimes with a book or a crossword puzzle, but still... It was very atypical behaviour for her. She had begun to perk up this morning, however, and had agreed to go out to breakfast.

"These pancakes taste odd." She said, poking at a pancake with her fork.

"How can a pancake taste odd, Tallie?" I asked, stirring milk into my oatmeal.

"I dunno... It just does." She began rolling a sausage around the edge of the plate, pushing it along with the fork.

"If you don't want them, don't eat them. But please stop playing with your sausage." I requested as I took a bite of her pancake. I frowned - it tasted fine to me.

"See? It's like... It tastes...Metallic, or something." I dipped my fork in the syrup and brought it to my tongue.

"I didn't taste anything unusual, Tallie. But I could be wrong."

"Maybe it's poisoned. What with my luck lately, I wouldn't be all that surprised." She muttered, pushing the plate away. I handed her the muffin that came with my oatmeal. She took a bite, leaned her head back and sighed.

"I feel all shitty again."

"Is it your side?" I asked, putting my fork down with mild alarm. She shook her head.

"Nuh-uh. My head. And my stomach, but I think that's just because I'm hungry. And because those pancakes are wonky." She smiled slightly. "At least your muffin tastes okay."

Just then the waiter came up and asked us how our breakfasts tasted. "My pancakes taste awful, to be honest." She replied. I strongly fought the urge to beat my head against the wall. The waiter took her plate, apologising profusely.

"Tallie..." She raised her hands in surrender.

"Hey - it's not like I lied. They tasted like..." Her face turned white. "Excuse me." She pushed her chair back from the table and ran to the bathroom.

"Tallie!" I got up from the table and followed her. "Natalie!" I pushed open the door (yes, to the women's lavatory) and found her on her knees in front of a toilet.

"Bad pancakes..." She muttered, gripping the handicap rail. She cringed and shuddered before vomiting again. "I don't feel good."

"Obviously. Did you feel like this earlier?" She shook her head.

"It was those stupid pancakes. The first one wasn't bad, but..." she winced, turning to the toilet bowl again. I wet a paper towel and handed it to her when she had finished.

"I want to go home, Miles." She stood up slowly, leaning into my arm.

"Well, the flooring-" She held up a hand.

"That's Mara's house. I wanna go _home_, okay?" She whispered shakily. "Can we just go home?"

'.'


	25. Chapter 25

Last chapter of this fic. Not joking. It's done.

Miles is Capcom's, as is Phoenix, Gumshoe, and... Anyone else outta the games.

* * *

'.' Miles - Friday '.'

The day before we needed to pick up her sister, Tallie and I were lying in bed, snuggling in the dark. When I informed her of the fact that I had no doubt Maralie would approve of our being together, seeing as she herself has a fiancee, she just sighed.

"It's not that, love. Mara... She'll say that it's too soon. That I haven't given myself time to... recover." She shifted under the sheets and reached up, stroking my jawline. "But... I think that this is how I've recovered. By being with you." She kissed my chest before resting her cheek on it. I turned my head as I heard a faint, yet shrill, beeping.

"Bloody alarm clock... Do you want toast, pet?" I asked, kissing her fingers before flipping back the covers.

"Augh! It's _cold_!" She protested, pulling the blankets up over her head. "Don't look. I'm naked." She said as I turned on the light to begin getting dressed.

"I won't if you won't." I said. I saw the sheets move out of the corner of my eye - she had pulled them down to watch. "Detective Wright - you're incorrigible." She laughed.

"Prosecutor Edgeworth - you're Adonis reborn." She smiled as I laughed aloud. "Toast would be nice." She called as I exited the room.

* * *

'.' Natalie - Friday '.'

I laid in bed for a few more seconds before getting up. I walked over to our closet (I love that - _our_ closet!) and grabbed some of my clothes, heading for the bathroom. We had both showered last night (together...) so I didn't need to take one now. I was pulling my shirt over my head when a wave of nausea hit me square in the gut.

I braced myself against the wall so I wouldn't hit my head on the toilet bowl (like I had on Wednesday) when I heard the bathroom door open.

"Tallie!" He rushed over as I threw up again. "Natalie - I'm taking you to the doctor." He wet a washcloth and wiped my face.

"No doctors. It's... I think it's the nightmar-" I stopped. He looked down at me, sorrow in his eyes.

"You're having nightmares? Tallie, why didn't you tell me?" I closed my eyes, willing the nausea to pass. It didn't. "Oh, Natalie."

"That was it." I whispered shakily. He picked me up and carried me back to the bed, settling me down gently. "I'm okay. I just..." I fingered the scar on my side. "I think it's because I saw the scar in the mirror. It brought the whole thing back. I just... I want him dead, Miles. Isn't that awful? I mean... I'm supposed to protect people's lives... Not want to end them." He climbed up next to me, pulling me on to his chest.

"You're more than justified in this case." He said, wrapping his arms around me. "I know that if I ever run into the bastard, I'd make him suffer. Greatly." I frowned.

"Umm... Changing the topic now." I said, resting my cheek on his shoulder and looking into his eyes. "I'm gunna to go check out how the flooring guys did with the kitchen. And I should probably visit Linsie, to corroborate our stories for Mara." He nodded.

"When will you be back?" He asked, his long, elegant fingers stroking my back.

"Mmm... It's nine now, so... 11:30. Ish. So I need to get up." I said, rolling off his chest to get off the bed. I went back into the bathroom to brush my teeth, wash my face, and do my make-up. "Be good."

"Be safe." He replied, kissing me gently. "I'll be gone when you return." I turned, surprised.

"I have a trial today, remember? State vs. Weems?"

"Oh! Yeah... I forgot about that. Well, then... Good luck, love." I blew him as kiss as I headed out the door.

'.'

"Hey, Nat." Linsie said, waving me in to her living room/studio. She was curled up on an oversized beanbag chair, eating a bowl of wheat germ.

"Hi, Lins. Did you take your meds today?" She nodded, pointing to the card table.

"Got you something. Didn't wrap it, but..." She shrugged and lit a cigarette.

"What on Earth..? Linsie!" I turned to see her smirking face. "That's not funny, Linsie." She laughed, smoke swirling out of her nostrils.

"Are you kidding, Cat? It's batshit hilarious!" She took a long drag of the cigarette. "Besides... With a boyfriend as hot as yours, you're going to need it sooner or later." She coughed. "Hey... We ever gunna paint together again?"

"Hmm? Oh... Sure." I said, distracted by the realization that she was right - If Miles and I weren't careful... "I just stopped by to tell you that Mara's coming home tomorrow. And to drop these off." I said, tossing my overnight bags on the floor. "To make it look like I was here." I grinned.

"Won't you need clothes for tonight and tomorrow?" She asked, her smirk returning. I shook my head.

"Are you kidding? I've got a closet full of clothes back... home... Shit! I mean-" She began laughing so hard that she spilled wheat germ in her lap.

"So, when are you _officially_ moving in with him?"

"...You know what? I'm not sure. I'll let you know, though. I've got a ton of errands to run... See ya, Lins."

"Yeah, go ahead, avoid the elephant in the room while you still can." She teased, flipping me off as I walked out the door. "And tell Roo-Roo I said hi, okay? And that I think he has a cute butt."

"Tell him yourself, ya freak!" I could hear her laughing as I walked out to my car.

'.'

As I drove to Mara's house (my house away from home) I couldn't help thinking about the 'gift' Linsie had given me - a pregnancy test kit. She had taped a rather dirty note to the package. (if she wanted Raoul Adagio, she wouldn't have to work hard - she was almost at his level of crass already...) She had meant it as a joke, but... It would explain a lot of the stuff I'd been going through, lately. The tiredness... The irritability... The throwing up...

_What if it was...What if I was..? What if Miles and I_- I stopped, my blood freezing.

Oh, God - No. No!

I ran up to the front door, unlocked it and ran to the bathroom, totally ignoring the new floor. I shut the door and locked it. (out of habit rather than necessity) I sunk to the floor, my back pressed against the wall. I read the directions on the package, making sure I did everything exactly as instructed. I closed my eyes and counted for what seemed like an eternity.

5 seconds...

10 seconds...

15...

20...

25...

30. Done.

My hands - my whole body - was shaking as I looked at the result. I dropped the test on the floor, and pulled out my cell phone, my body numb.

"You've reached Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth. I'm sorry, but I am currently unavailable. If you would leave your contact information, I shall endeavor to get back to you as soon as possible. *BEEP*"

"Miles..." I whimpered into the phone.

* * *

'.' Miles '.'

I felt my cell phone vibrate in my pocket. Thank God I had it silenced, or I may have been penalized. I hadn't been up against this attorney yet - the elder of the Gavin brothers, Kristoph. He looked shockingly like his younger brother, but was far more professional in his style of dress. My phone vibrated again, this time to inform me that I had received a text message. I used the edge of the stand to shield it from the judge's line of sight. What I read made my heart stop.

**Mi*Ls - need u maras i m losing ctrl help me plz - Tal*E**

Natalie needed me and I was stuck in court. I texted her back.

**Tal*E - In mddle of trial - wuts rong? - Mi*Ls**

Gavin presented evidence, and it was only by sheer luck that I even understood what was going on in the trial - my mind was with her. A new text popped up.

**Mi*Ls - I NEED U - Tal*E**

I held back a groan and texted her again.

**Tal*E - I cant get out of court. Tell me wuts rong. - Mi*Ls**

I waited, wishing that this idiot Weems had found an incompetent lawyer so that this would already be over, when another text come.

**Mi*Ls - i cut myself - this is 2 much 4 me 2 take i need u NOW - Tal*E**

Bloody Hell. I had only one option: I texted Phoenix Wright, using correct grammar and spelling. I couldn't allow him to know just how much his sister was influencing me.

**Wright - Call Gumshoe. Tell him to initiate the escape plan. - Mi*Ls**

He replied almost immediately - he was obviously shirking his duties at the restaurant again.

**Mi*Ls - Cute n-name. NatLE cum up wit it? ;) Will call Gshu 4 U. - FeeniX**

I'll murder him someday, mark my words. The fool knows _far_ too much. About five minutes later, another text pinged in my inbox.

**MrE - U wan me 2 flk litr undr fire thngy sir? - Gshu**

I had to refrain from knocking my head against the wall. I logged out of private chat and into professional text mode before replying.

**Gumshoe - Yes, I want you to flick a lighter under one of the heat detectors. Just try not to get caught. - Edgeworth**

I received an almost immediate response; but I didn't have to look at it to know what it said - the alarms had begun to go off. I ran out of the court house and out to the parking lot. I was out on the expressway before the alarms had even been shut off. I sped (literally - it's I wonder I wasn't pulled over) all the way to Natalie and Mara's, almost hitting their neighbor as I turned into their driveway. She had left the door open - something she would never do. I ran into the house.

"TALLIE!"

"Miles..." Her quiet voice came from the bedroom. I ran to our room (not bothering to stop and realize that I considered it as such), ignoring the fact that my shoes may scuff her sister's new floor. I found her sitting on the bed, her left hand cupped in her lap. Blood ran down her wrist, pooling in her palm. At the sound of my feet hitting the carpet she looked up, mascara running down her cheeks.

"Tallie!" I went over to her, climbing on the bed. I wrapped her wrist in a clean dish towel I had pulled from the rack in the kitchen. "Come with me. We're going to wash this blood off." Her lip quivered as she let me lead her to the bathroom.

"Miles..." She whispered. She pointed, mutely, to an object on the bathroom counter. I picked it up and studied it.

"What is this, Tallie? Is this what set you off?" She looked away and nodded. "What is it?" I asked again. She pointed to a box in the trash can. I fished it out. "A... pregnancy test..?" I dropped the box back into the trash and looked at the little device.

And then the pieces clicked.

"You're... pregnant?" She nodded, silently. I wrapped my arms around her. I felt something swell inside me, at that moment. An emotion I couldn't identify. It was elation, apprehension, excitement, pride, and... confusion, as she buried her face in my chest and began to sob.

"Tallie." She refused to look at me. "It's alright. I'm not angry. I'm not angry at all, love. Look at me, Natalie." I lifted her chin up so she was looking into my eyes, and I was looking into hers. "Tell me." She let out a small cry and said four words that tore my world apart.

"I think it's _his_..."

**'.'-'.'-'.'**

**

* * *

**

**THIS IS THE END OF "THREE WRIGHTS AND AN EDGEWORTH".**

**THE STORY CONTINUES IN "A WRIGHT, TWO EDGEWORTHS, AND AN ADED BONUS" **

Scared ya, dinnit I? :P**  
**


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